when sorry is all you can say, when sorry doesn’t cut it.
the ghost of regret had been haunting younghyun ever since he made that one irreversible mistake.
it follows him as he’s shipped off to military service, creeps at his back during lonely nights, rendering him sleepless. it seeps into his dreams, morphing them into brutal nightmares that serve as a constant reminder. even though he’s back in kyungwon, nothing has changed—on the contrary, those feelings of remorse only grow stronger, taking root within the very depths of his core. he welcomes it, of course, because he should be feeling all this. he’s not going to wallow in his own self-pity, this isn’t about younghyun.
no, this is about seo hayun, a fellow student. pre-medicine major and national representative for taekwondo. someone with a bright future ahead of him, until younghyun destroyed it all by taking the wheel that day.
everything he found out about that boy he did on his own. his parents disclosed nothing, opting to keep younghyun in the dark. the last thing he wants is to let himself hide behind his parents’ protection though, so he slips through the cracks and began his own investigation. reading articles, fitting timelines, asking his connections—he's not an investigative journalist by any means, but he discovered more than enough. at least, enough to know where hayun could be.
still, he wasn’t fully prepared to come face-to-face with the boy himself. back in the trenches, he had rehearsed this scene several times in his head, hoping for the day he'd be able to express his regrets and remorse. that doesn’t get rid of the underlying fear, even when he knows it’s not younghyun who should be afraid. he doesn't expect forgiveness, and he shouldn’t be. younghyun simply wants the other to know he was sorry; he wants to be genuine. he doesn’t want to run away from his mistakes.
the library is quiet, but younghyun can hear the sound of his thundering heartbeat in his chest, the thorns pricking at his skin. all these sensations mean nothing when he's looking straight at someone who’s slowly putting a few books into the shelves, patient—struggling. younghyun approaches, each step feeling heavier than the last. he tries smiling, but then worries he’d be imposing. it remains anyway, with a glint of nervousness. younghyun picks up one of the books, a subtle way to alert the other student to his presence. only then does he say, “hello,” in greeting.
his voice sounds more strained than usual, but he wills that away with a small cough. “do you... need help?” younghyun asks, unsure if this is the best method to start the conversation. he’s unsure about a lot of things.
all he's certain of is that he needs to do this.
— @kwhayun !
