The Withered Flower That Bloomed In Autumn
CHAPTER 4 | Internal Blaze
TMR x Seon (OC) fanfic / FTM ā§ļø / 5,270 word count
WARNING: slurs, derogatory and swear words /!\ + Korean is mentioned in this chapter. there will be translation at the very end of the chapter.
also, a big shout out to @lostlibrarybook for the drawing adaptation of the gladeās map (go check it out >> original post) :) it was really helpful for describing specific trajectory/location for this chapter !
The machete slipped through her wet fingers and fell heavily beside her. She closed her eyes firmly, lifting her head up to the sky as the heat of the burning sun seared her skin.
Stretching the collar of her shirt did nothing to alleviate the oppressive heat of the day. Her shirt was already soaked in sweat which stripped down her face and to her neck. In such heat, even a breeze was useless ā breathing was already suffocating enough.
A throbbing pain twisted her back, her legs shaking uncontrollably from the repeated standing and squatting every second, added up with dirt stuck to her fingernails numbing the pain.
This was an endless toil.
āHey !ā Zack walked past her, āDonāt slack off ! You canāt get tired just yet.ā gently nudging her in the back with his elbow.
She let out a quiet yelp, startled by the sudden contact. She immediately snapped out of her daze, shaking her head several times.
Donāt mess up. Stay focused.
She looked down to her feet, scanning all the way to the end of the garden, analyzing all the weeds and roots she had to remove. A huge pile of thick roots was already accumulating to her left and yet, she wasnāt even halfway done with her task.
She groaned under her breath, picking up her machete, and resumed striking one of the many wild roots. Each hit became stronger and precise. Even though her movements were still stiff ā almost awkward ā it still proved considerable progress she had made in recent weeks.
The Keepers seemed more hopeful about her situation, including Newt who had suggested to Alby that he give her a little more time to figure things out. Somehow, the blonde boy managed to convince the Leader with his soft spoken approach.
And thank God, she wasnāt a Slopper yet.
Since they had given her another chance to catch up, she had been awfully careful. She studied every single move, taking notes in the back of her head the skills required for each task; the way Winston sliced a buckās leg, how Gally aimed his hammer to cut the woods in one swift motion, and all the Gladersā techniques she could apply.
Fortunately, her progress was recognizable with every passing day, showing actual improvements. For once, she seemed to be pretty good at something ā even if that didnāt necessarily mean she enjoyed it. At least she was finally doing something.
But what was more surprising was that the Gladers treated her more kindly than before, seeming more willing to teach her new things.
The mocking and humiliating remarks subsided, as well as their irritation towards her got replaced with more consideration and goodwill.
Slowly, she began to get along pretty well with some of them ā not that she could yet consider them her friends yet, but she was starting to feel more comfortable being in this place.
But that didnāt exactly mean that things were getting easier.
Only one specific aspect of her time here was remotely bearable. Everything else was exhausting.
Her body never found the time to rest. She always woke up with cramps all over her body, muscles tense, living in endless fear.
She could chat, have a little laugh and joke around if the mood struck her. But one thing she made sure to avoid was any type of emotional intimacy.
If she was given the chance to connect with others, she would have seized it with joy. Only the situation in which she was in held her back from it, making it seem impossible.
Especially when it came to any kind of physical contact, she'd be completely petrified like a cat, willingly avoiding any kind of contact before it even occurred. Many were baffled by her reactions but sheād rather make a fool of herself by doing so.
Even the slightest touch, the slightest movement such as a mere brush against someone made her jolt in fear, dodging as if being touched or touching others were deadly. Her anxiety became more and more intense to deal with, causing her great distress and significant impairment.
She had to be cautious. She couldnāt risk getting caught ā that would mean irreparable damage. Death called to her far more than the prospect of a nightmare.
And that nightmare could become reality at any moment if she wasnāt careful enough.
āDonāt forget, youāre supposed to be done with this in an hour !ā Enrique clapped his hands just as he walked past her.
She didnāt even bother to look at him, completely ignoring the remark and resuming her work. Enrique stopped dead in his tracks, realizing heād upset her. He let out an embarrassed laugh, trying to back out of his irritating comment.
āCanāt you do better ? Like a man, eh ?ā
People here could be rough ā very rough ā even when itās not intentional. And perhaps itās something that she needs to get used to, because theyāre all just a bunch of stupid brainless walking proteins. But that didnāt justify their harmful comments. How could they say such things with such impudence ?
And as soon as one of them made a comment, others always joined in ragging her, all laughing at the disparaging words, which they took for mere jokes. But this time, it was different. It was deliberately humiliating. Degrading.
āBet a chick would do better than.. whatever he's doing here.ā
She ripped out a huge root from underground, sending dirt flying everywhere as she did, before hurling it to the ground. She turned to the boy who had said that, still holding the machete.
āWhat does that mean ?ā
A few boys stopped mid-work, exchanging puzzled glances ā all as if she was overreacting. Although she was reserved and didnāt seem to be one to always appreciate jokes, she sometimes responded with a smile or simply brushed it off. But this wasnāt something she could let slide.
āI mean, look at you. Youāre almost as weak as a girl. Seriously, this isnāt even the hardest task.ā Brandon said casually, as if it was matter of fact, peacefully picking berries, reinforcing his already contemptuous comment.
āItās a good thing that youāve at least become a little more useful these past few weeks.ā
He turned, checking her out, then let out a scoff. āIn fact, a chick wouldāve caused more disaster than you. Or she wouldnāt even have made it this far.ā
āWhat makes you so sure of that ?ā She took a few steps forward, closing the distance between herself and Brandon. She tilted her head slightly, twirling the machete in her hand, impatiently.
āYou think a girl canāt be as tough as a boy ?ā
The boy raised an eyebrow, throwing both his hands up in surrender in the most annoying way possible. āDamn, chill out, Shank, weāre just joking.ā
He attempted to lightly tap her shoulders, which immediately made her cringe, shoving his hands away.
āAw, someone's emotional. Why ? Are you actually a chick or what ?ā
āI swear, if you say that word again, Iāā
- āWhat do we have going on here ?ā
Newt came right at the perfect timing, stopping a few feet behind Zart, who had stepped between her and Brandon to prevent any altercation. Her head instinctively turned toward Newt, and her gaze softened only slightly at the sight of the blonde boy, a wave of relief washing over her.
āGreenbeanās acting like a sissy. Shucking booorinnng !ā
Her jaw tightened with the sudden reflex, preventing herself from over reacting. She didnāt want to give that boneheaded boy the satisfaction of getting on her nerves.
ā..Iām not a girl.ā
āThen prove it. Show us your strength, dude !ā
She fell silent immediately. Instead of responding to this remark, she simply glared at Brandon, who, with a smug smile, stepped back, having clearly understood that it was best to stop his jokes by now. But the others who had been witnessing the scene, snickered, redoubling their efforts to fuel the jokes.
āCāmon Greenie, is that all you can give ?ā Newt called out, adding a comment himself, a gentle, playful smile tugging on his lips.
She felt absolutely helpless. Would they have been really that cruel if she had told them from the start that she was a girl ? āTriggeredā was far too weak a word to express what she was feeling at that moment. It was no use to fight back, to get mad ā they would never get it.
A few moments later, Newt calmed the crowd of boys. He ordered everyone to get back to work, and right before leaving, he walked up to her. She already had faced her back to everyone, crouched in a corner of the garden, frantically tapping the ground with her knife.
She wanted to get over this day as quickly as possible, to think about something else ā anything else but what had just happened.
āYāknow, thereās nothing wrong with being a girl.ā
Despite his words, spoken with the intention of comforting her, it only made one thing very clear; telling them the truth wouldāve only made things even more insufferable than it already was.
Her thoughts sank down in despair, a tightness gripping her chest. She rubbed it harder, hoping to ease her anguish ā but nothing changed. She felt a dull ache, not physical, but it still hurt.
All the efforts sheās been making were so easily ignored. And it wouldāve been even more the case if they had known she was a girl. Because it makes sense that a girl is weaker than a boy.
No matter how hard I try, it will never be enough.
Newt stood there shortly, before walking away. She didnāt look back ā she didnāt dare. She shouldāve just kept her mouth shut and ignored them from the very beginning. She shouldāve stayed steady. She was getting too comfortable. This was no place to find comfort.
She chewed her gum until a warm salty liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes began to water for no apparent reason.
Donāt mess up. Stay focused.
She couldnāt give in yet. She wouldnāt let them win. She couldnāt break, especially not now. She had to toughen up, one way or another, if it meant to prove them all wrong. And in order to do that, she had to make a decision ā a sacrifice.
The sky, a deep blue with pale orange, formed a gradient that extended to the outskirts of the East doors. In the early mornings, the Glade was reigned by an atmosphere of almost unreal calm and peace.
It was her favorite time of the day. When the world was still quiet, when she didnāt hear anyoneās condescending words, when she didnāt have to worry about anyoneās gaze. When she could just be there.
The door of the Medhut closed softly behind her. One hand pressed against it, while she held something in the other. Without hesitation, she ran into the woods, feeling as if the sound of her heartbeat and her footsteps echoed throughout the whole Glade.
She finally stopped to catch her breath. She was far enough away from everyone else, having reached the very end of the Deadheads, meeting with the walls of the Maze.
She checked her surroundings one last time, making sure she was truly alone, then, she delicately removed her shirt. The cold twilight breeze caressed her skin without warning, sending shivers down her spine.
With trembling hands, she hastily unfolded the bandage. Was it because of the windy weather or the deep-seated unease gnawing at her ? She stood there completely frozen, staring at the bandage for a long moment. This was her last chance to back out. But was it really a good idea ?
Donāt mess up. Stay focused.
One turn, a second turn and a third turn. The bandage thickened around her chest. A low grunt escaped her mouth at the tightness. It felt wrong.
Every time a feeling of uncertainty built inside of her, she pulled the bandage even tighter, in order to ignore any doubts.
There was no going back now.
The walk back to the Homestead made her ponder about a lot of things. Because what now ? What was she supposed to really do ? What did it mean now ? What did it mean to her ? Although this decision had perhaps been made on a whim, what else was she supposed to come up with ?
She groaned while rubbing her compressed chest, struggling to breathe. She stretched her arms, twisted her torso to loosen it, trying to get used to what was about to become her routine from now on.
Just as she was about to return to her hammock to catch up on sleep, she was caught off guard by the unusually large cabin, weirdly located in the Glade, between the Box and the Blood House and not so far from the East doors.
It was one of the cabins where she had seen Minho go in with other Runners right after coming back from the Maze, on several occasions.
But on her very first day, Alby had walked right past it. Heād said that it was some kind of storage room and that non-Runners were forbidden to go. There was no further explanation than this, no questions were required to ask ā that could only mean one thing.
If Alby didnāt tell her about it, that was enough of a reason for her to go and see for herself.
She knew perfectly well that she shouldnāt go in there; any place that she wasnāt aware of was somewhere she shouldnāt be.
But the timing was perfect for exploring. It was still early dawn, deadly quiet, and everyone seemed to be asleep ā So why not give in to her curiosity, just this once ?
Her steps quickened toward the cabin. Despite her best efforts to remain unnoticed, the door opened, followed by a low creak announcing her presence. She squinted to adjust to the darkness, the only source of light being the daybreak.
In the middle of the room stood a large table, almost taking up all the space, covered with a thin large blanket ā clearly hiding something underneath.
A few wooden boards hung on the walls, covered with scribbles, illegible writing, and scattered numbers here and there. They all looked pretty similar.
Numerous boxes were stacked one on top of the other. She approached one, rummaging through the boxes filled with enormous sheets of papers, adorned with drawings that looked like a maze.
Each of them looked slightly different, having different dates and numbers that seemed well organized ā too well organized to be just random numbers.
Confused and intrigued, she put the papers back in the box and continued wandering around the room, searching through the many boxes.
Overcome with excitement, she bumped her hip against the table as she reached for another box. She winced in pain and turned to see that a corner of the blanket was unfolded, revealing a number on the table; Seven.
Something jolted her awake at that moment, like a punch in the face. Whatever laid under that blanket was undoubtedly what she had been thinking. She was certain of it.
She felt her heart pounded through her throat, her body tensed as she reached her arm out to the table, ever so slowly, as if something big was awaiting her.
Just as her fingertips brushed the blanket, a hand stopped her abruptly, cold fingers tightly closing firmly on her wrist. She jolted at the same time she jerked her head toward the figure now standing right next to her; Minho.
By the time she realized that she had been caught, the forceful grip on her wrist gave her no time to properly react.
She was dragged toward the exit in a fraction of a second. The boy yanked her outside as she stumbled, catching her balance at last.
āWhat the hell are you doing here !ā
He yelled, his voice thick with irritation, but not loud enough to wake the others. His gaze pierced her as he strode menacingly toward her, before she could even turn around. When she did, Minho was already towering over her, his jaw clenched.
She froze completely, her mind racing with too many thoughts. Why was he so mad ? Why besides Alby, did he want her to leave this place ?
āAre you actually deaf or just a Slinthead ?ā
- āWhatās that room for ? What are all these things ?
Minho was speechless. This was the first time she was actually doing something ā finally showing some backbone. Asserted personality. Speaking up for herself. Her audacity to still be asking after heād made it perfectly clear she had no business being there was mind boggling.
āNot only can you actually hear, but itās only now that you decide to talk.ā Minho scoffed incredulously, resting both hands on his hips.
āI donāt owe you any explanation. All you need to know is that you have nothing to do there.ā
āPerhaps, you do. I deserve an explanation. Like everybody else here.ā
She wasnāt going to back down, not just yet. She had to gather at least one small piece of information. Just one.
āWhy ? Why are you hiding whateverās in that hut ?ā
āBecause you donāt have to know.ā
āAlby said that non-Runners canāt go in there. Why is thatāā
- āThen what the shuck is it that you donāt understand about āexclusively for the Runnersā, hm ?ā
Minho shook his head in disapproval, snorting. āYouāre as reckless as Alby described. Yet you still donāt get why he isnāt willing to tell you everything. Now leave beforeāā
He was starting to seriously wonder if she had hearing problems or if she was a retard. Her sheer stubbornness might seem reckless to some, but in a way, it was fascinating. Behind her gaze lay something bigger than fear.
āWhat ?ā He blinked repeatedly, frowning at the unexpected question.
āYou go out there every morning and you come back with something. I want to know whatever you know. Is there a way out ? Have you discovered who might be behind this ?ā
- āThatās none of your business.ā
Her eyebrows twitched at his firm refusal. Her words were disregarded, brushed aside ā again. How was this none of her business, as if she werenāt in the same situation as him ?
Is everyone here a complete jerk ?
Theyād definitely gotten off on the wrong foot, and maybe he wasnāt the one she should be getting mad at. But what else was she supposed to do when no one wanted to tell her anything properly ?
Minho seemed to be the only one who could really tell her anything close to the truth. From the first day they met, he seemed to know more than anyone else about what was happening here and seemed just as eager as she was to learn more about the Maze.
She needed that ambition. She needed that approval. He had to confirm it.
āDonāt take me for a fool like everybody else. You know better than anyone whatās out there.ā
The boyās hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He looked away and took a few steps back ā She was testing Minhoās patience.
He let out a deep sigh through his nose, his tongue pressed against his cheek, as she continued to interrogate him, asking him questions he could have answered, really, but simply didnāt want to. Or perhaps did he ?
āAre those numbers a kind of puzzle to solve ?ā
āIām not going to ask this any nicely. Leave.ā
āThen at least tell me why other Gladers are not allowed to go into the Maze ? Why wonāt youāā
Unannounced, Minho aggressively grabbed her collar and shoved her face right in front of him. His knuckles pressed against her neck, jerking her upright. She rose onto her tip toes, her breath immediately taken aback from the force of the impact, letting out a choke.
āListen to me, you little Klunk head ! Stupid shanks like you are always the first to be on their deathbeds. So shut your big mouth and do your damn gardening shit !ā
He gave her one last warning before pushing her away. She stumbled back, with the collar of her shirt completely taut.
She stared back at him, eyes wandering everywhere around his face, startled by his sudden aggression.
She eventually looked away, instead, she looked around the Glade, staggering in place, processing her thoughts.
Then, as if she finally understood something, she nodded slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line, momentarily wrinkling her nose. At first, she heaved an exasperated sigh, but her breathing gradually quickened.
Minho shifted his weight onto his left foot, watching her out of the corner of his eye, as if preparing for what was to come.
Then, on the spur of the moment, a sound escaped her lips ā words, to be precise.
āģØė°, ģµģøķė¤.ā
She wasnāt fully aware of what she had just said. Her thoughts had spoken before she could even form a sentence.
The more she tried to suppress her emotions, the more her frustration grew. She felt like she could burst out at any moment, but her self-control was much stronger to hold her back.
Minho stood there quietly, staring at her with wide eyes, fright etched on his face. She glanced at him, then back, noticing the color drained out of his face. He looked like heād seen a ghost.
The boy swallowed, his eyes glued to her, as his lips parted slowly. Then, after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally made a sound.
āģ ė§ ģź³ ģ¶ģ“?ā
The realization hit them both. These werenāt just any random sounds. It was a language, a language they shared ā a language only they could understand.
They understood each other.
The silence stretched the longer they stood there, unmoving, still staring at each other, both of them too afraid to do anything, afraid to face something they werenāt yet ready for.
Finally, she prepared to take a step forward, slowly. Her body leaned toward him, and before she could move any further, she was instantly pulled back by a hand. But this time it wasnāt Minho; it was Alby.
āWake the Runners and start the day.ā Alby ordered sharply, not even glancing at him once.
Minho simply nodded as Alby dragged her away from the cabin, despite her struggles to break free.
She turned to see Minho looking back at her, still frightened, but something in his expression had changed.
It wasnāt anything like resentment or frustration. It was a mixture of confusion, maybe even concern. And that look on his face, somehow replaced irritation and anger with something else ā Relief. For that infuriating familiarity sheād felt for so long finally seemed to make sense. This was why.
Albyās grip tightened on her arm, pulling her harder toward the West Gates. She continued to struggle, but the boyās strength was undeniably overwhelming compared to hers.
His grip only tightened each time she tried to get away from him. Her nails dug into his skin as she tried desperately to pull away, leaving numerous scratches on his arm.
She finally shook her arm off when they were finally alone as he released her. She rubbed her arm, wincing at the aching feeling. Alby briefly glanced, his gaze hardening as he maintained a respectful distance between him and her.
āYou better have a good explanation for this.ā
āI think youāre the one who owes me one.ā
For the first time, she stood to face Alby; finally giving free rein to her deepest, most honest, rawest emotions, and asking Alby the forbidden questions she hadnāt dared to voice.
āWhatās really out there ?ā
Her curiosity and confusion only grew. Alby sneered, not at all surprised by her sudden rebellion. It was as if heād been waiting for her to one day free herself from this image of an āinsecure Greenieā, for her to deny her fear and to finally speak up.
Only to be dismissed once again.
He tilted his head slightly to the side, āWhereās that sudden burst of confidence coming from ?ā
She hadnāt known she could feel such a deep sense of repulsion toward someone. Perhaps it was a good thing that the feeling seemed to be mutual.
She ignored his remark and went straight to her point. She wasnāt going to back down this time.
āYouāve been hiding it from the very beginning. I saw what was in there ! You deliberately led me away from the truth, and for what ? Lying to meāā
- āI donāt lie. I only say whatās necessary to know ā whatās consequential.ā
āYou canāt keep me in the dark forever.ā She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. āSo tell me. Just tell me what that room is. Whatās in there ?ā
Alby groaned through gritted teeth, pressing his hand to his forehead, then running his hand through his hair. After a long moment of hesitation, he finally gave her the answer sheād been waiting to hear since day one.
āThe Map Room.ā He said simply, āThatās where the Runners map out the Maze after every run.ā only giving the necessary information.
āWhatās out there ? We donāt know yet. Weāre still trying to figure out what this place really is. No one is allowed to go inside the Maze and the Maproom. Only the Runners can. Good that ?ā
āAnd If I want to be a Runner ?ā
- āYou need to stop.ā
Alby didnāt stutter. He didnāt even hesitate for a moment, not even did he seem the least bit surprised. It wasnāt news to her that he would vehemently oppose it. Anything she did, he was always against it.
āYou canāt tell me to stop, when you refuse to even tell me the bare minimum of the truth.ā Her voice rose, her jaw tensed, blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to contain her anger, even though she was on the verge of exploding.
āWhy do you keep shutting me out from the truth !?ā
āBecause you are turbulent !ā
Alby lashed out, veins popping out of his bulging neck and spit spurting from his mouth as he uttered those last words. He breathed heavily, taking a few steps back to turn his back on her, cursing under his breath as he tried to compose himself.
She stared at him, her eyes wide. She had never seen Alby lose his temper before. He had always cultivated the image of an unflappable, collected leader, and today, that mask had slipped. It was as if the weight had suddenly become unbearable, for a moment.
āYou are constantly trying to cross a line that was set from the beginning, long before you even arrived. Why do you think we have these rules ?ā
The dark-skinned boy finally turned, his gaze fixed on the ground. For a brief second, she thought she saw a flicker of exhaustion on his face.
But when he finally looked her straight in the eyes, that look vanished instantly like a hallucination. In that instant, he finally felt like an actual person.
āBecause of reckless Slintheads like you, who are not aware of the slightest disaster they can cause, and have already caused.ā
āYou really think Iām that brainless to get myself killed ?ā
āNo, I think you are imprudent.ā
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this response. Being called somewhat stupid was never pleasant, but it was far more polite and nicer than all of Albyās other remarks about her.
āA lot of us were like you once; curious, audacious, convinced we were brave enough to face this messed-up situation.ā
He paused, his gaze suddenly shifting toward the sleeping quarters. āBut that only led us to irreversible consequences.ā
His brows knitted, as if a memory were resurfacing, followed by a deep sigh. āWhich is why the rules are important. They are fundamental to prevent repeating those mistakes.ā
āSo youād rather impose rules without giving explanation to why ?ā She asked, plastering a smile on her face. āYou canāt just expect everyone to listen and nod and go on with their livesā!ā
Can I even call this a life ?
When it was stolen from us by whatever force beyond our control.
A life that isnāt even ours.
āToo much curiosity is what takes your life away. Ruthlessly.ā
āIt could save us from this cage.ā
āIt only proves your lack of carefulness.ā
āYou arenāt. Enough.ā
She scrunched up her face, sighing deeply through her nose. His stubbornness was far more tenacious than she had imagined.
She felt so powerless against Alby. It was like talking to a brick wall; No matter what she did, what she said, nothing could ever convince him, not even a little bit.
āWhy are you doing this to me ?ā
Alby let the silence settle for a moment before speaking up. āYou want my trust when you canāt even do one job properly.ā His expression remained unchanged, his voice suddenly calm and certain.
This wasnāt just him expressing annoyance toward her.
āYou have quite some nerve asking that, donāt you think, Greenie ?ā
- āThatās not my name.ā She immediately picked him up on the nickname, her tone dry and bitter.
Her name was ill-sounding to her ears. It was a voice she hoped never to hear pronounce her name again.
āYou try to be tough and capable, but youāve only proven the opposite of it from the very beginning.ā
The boy looked at her one last time with that same impassive irritating expression that characterized him. āIf you want what you want, earn it.ā Then he walked away, after giving her one last reminder.
āAs of now, you are not worthy of any title.ā
In just a few words, he had managed to shatter her self-esteem into pieces. It was that easy.
Simply reminding her how futile she was.
She thought silently ā Tell them youāre a girl and itāll only worsen things.
She embodied fragility, weakness and uselessness. But perhaps that didn't change much of it, since they all seemed to perceive her that way, even without knowing the truth.
For a mere second, she considered following him and stopping him, fighting back. But how could she argue with him, or with anyone, since what he was saying was the truth ?
They had all made it perfectly clear to her that she was unwanted. She didnāt want this. Of course, she also wanted to contribute, to be useful, to shed new light, to get out of this pit hole.
She just wanted the truth, to know what lay hidden beyond the Maze. And for her to get closer to the truth, she had to become a Runner.
If Alby isnāt going to tell her anything, this was the only way for her to discover whatever was hiding behind those walls.
She wasnāt scared of the truth, if that was what worried him. What scared her more was not being able to fight for what they all sought, what they all deserved ā Freedom.
The only way for her to prove him was to earn it. She must earn that role.
That morning, something shifted within her. And unlike all the efforts she had made until then to better care for the plants or sharpen a knife the proper way, this time, something truly had to change. Perhaps it was for the better, perhaps for the worst.
And she was going to do everything she could, even if it takes her nature.
Donāt mess up. Stay focused.
phew, this chapter has been rotting in my docs for A LONG time. this is one of my favorite moments in Seonās lore because everything changes for him since this incident. this chapter is so long and was draining to write, so iām really happy itās finally out ! hope yall like this.. :,)
KR translation: āFuck, this is unfairā / āDo you really want to know ?ā
