Through The Storm: Chapter 6
Title: Through the Storm Chapter 6 Rating: Mature (Some adult themes) Contains: Slow burn, PTSD, Trauma, Underaged drinking/smoking, some violence Characters: Mingi, Fem OC, Jongho, Yunho AU: Aged up Military!Mingi, Aged up Professor!Yunho, Aged down Teen!Jongho Masterlist | Ao3 | AFF | Wattpad Previous Chapter - Next Chapter Synopsis: Areum is a college student trying to keep her life together. Between school, her part-time job, and taking care of her younger brother, every day feels like a blur. She doesn’t have much time to think about herself or the things she’s been through. She just keeps moving forward. Then she meets Mingi, someone who somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be around, and before she realizes it, he starts becoming an important part of her days. Through him, Areum starts to find a bit of peace in the chaos, learning that maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. But as she begins to rebuild her sense of peace, she soon realizes that some truths can’t stay buried forever and that her parents’ deaths might not be as simple as they seemed.
Sitting at his desk with his mind elsewhere, Jongho stared down at the business card in front of him. The sound of chalk scraping against the board echoed through the classroom as the teacher spoke, but he barely heard a word.
The day before, while waiting for his next class to start, some of the students around him had started talking about a military recruitment fair being set up in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t anything big, just a few tables where soldiers would talk about the military and the benefits of joining.
When lunch came around, he decided to head over to one of the tables and take a look. He didn’t say anything, just observed quietly.
“Here, take this.”
Jongho looked up to see a soldier holding out a folder toward him. The man introduced himself along with the one standing beside him. The shorter, broad-shouldered one was Choi San, and the taller one was Song Mingi.
Jongho stared at the two, not in the mood for conversation. Mingi and San exchanged a look before chuckling. Mingi glanced down at his name tag and raised a brow. The name sounded familiar.
“Choi Jongho? That sounds oddly familiar. I’ve heard your name somewhere,” he hummed.
Jongho rolled his eyes.
Mingi then remembered how he knew the name, expression softening once he had realized. He was Areum's younger brother who seemed to be the cause of her stress.
“Well, Jongho, if you have any questions, feel free to come to us. You can also contact me here.” He slipped a business card with his information into the folder and handed it over.
“What’s the point?”
The two once again exchanged looks, caught off guard that he finally had something to say.
“Well,” San started, “there are a lot of benefits. Your tuition is covered, there’s healthcare, housing… you get a pension.”
“Okay…” Jongho wasn’t impressed. Mingi noticed the look on his face. Areum had mentioned that Jongho had been a bit of a troublemaker lately, like he used to be when he was younger. She also mentioned he could be stubborn and hard to get through, and he was proving her right.
“It also helps you build balance in your life, gives you discipline and structure,” Mingi added, though he could tell none of it was sticking. So he shifted tactics.
“Want to know why I joined?” he asked. “I was a shitty kid in high school. I drank, smoked, and fooled around…I lost myself and thought I had nothing going for me. But when I joined the military, I got better. I had a goal. I graduated college, I’ve got my own place, my own car… I have a life that I made for myself now. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't joined.”
This seemed to have piqued his interest a bit, with the way his eyes changed, but he didn’t say anything. Mingi and San watched as Jongho stuffed the folder in his bag and turned to leave.
And now here he was, staring at the business card sitting on his desk. He was going back and forth between wanting to text Mingi or to just forget about it. Was he ready to move forward in his life? Did he want to take this route? And the real question…was he ready to change? Or had he grown too comfortable with where he is now?
The bell rang, bringing his attention back to reality. With a sigh, he stuffs the card in his pocket and leaves the classroom to get some fresh air. When he steps out to the courtyard he finds Yeosang already making his way to his side. The two walked side by side towards the school vendor, buying themselves some sweet bread and drinks.
“Something going through your mind?” Yeosang broke the silence between them, taking a bite out of his bread. Jongho hadn’t opened his yet. “Kind of, but it’s not really important.” Yeosang nods, taking another bite as they continue to walk.
Up ahead they see a group of students hanging out by a pillar, laughing and fooling around. Jongho spots a familiar face in the group, making his chest tighten. He tries to ignore that feeling, and tries to avoid this person, but it was hard. He’s known him, Jun, since they were in primary school together, spent every day together. They were inseparable.
But when Jongho fell into depression after his parents passed away, he shut everyone out, ignoring all their attempts to reach him. One by one, his friends drifted away, tired of knocking on a door he refused to open.
He did regret it, he realized too late that he had lost his friends and didn’t try to reach out to them. He didn’t think he deserved to get a second chance with them. They deserved a better friend, someone who wasn’t as selfish as he was.
Jun, especially, had never forgiven him. Bitterness had settled in his eyes, and he never missed a chance to make that clear.
“So you’re joining the military now, huh?” Jun called out.
Jongho ignored him.
“With how useless and pathetic you’ve become, it fits you. No one else would take you anyway.”
Jun and his friends burst out laughing. Yeosang glanced at Jongho to gauge his reaction, but Jongho’s face remained calm and unreadable. He didn’t stop walking.
The insults didn’t affect him anymore. They were old and predictable. In the beginning, it hurt that his best friend would talk to him like that, but now it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. He never expected Jun to hold on to his anger for this long or to stoop so low.
But there was one thing that could still set him off.
“Maybe while you’re off at boot camp, I can finally get a chance to fuck that sister of yours.”
There it was.
Jongho froze. His fists clenched tight around the sweet bread in his hand. Heat crawled up his neck as the world blurred at the edges, turning red. Slowly, he turned, his eyes narrowing, shooting daggers straight at Jun.
“What. The. Fuck did you just say?” His voice was low and venomous.
Yeosang’s eyes widened, he had never seen him this angry before. “Jongho…”
Jun smirked, licking his lips. “What? You think I can’t pull her just because she’s older?”
Jongho surged forward, dropping whatever was in his hands, pushing past Jun’s friends until he was face-to-face with him. He grabbed Jun’s collar, his own face flushed with rage he could barely contain.
“Unless you want to eat shit, don’t ever fucking talk about her again.”
Jun’s grin only widened.
“Oh, trust me Jongho, I can make her mine easily. My cousin told me all about how easy she was, how easily she spread those legs wide op–”
Thump.
Jongho’s fist connected hard with Jun’s jaw, his head snapping to the side. The sound cut through the courtyard, and suddenly everyone went silent.
Before Jun could react, Jongho’s knuckles crashed into his face again. And again. Jun tried to push him away, scrambling to get out of his grip, but Jongho shoved him hard, sending him crashing to the ground.
He was on him in seconds. Straddling his torso, he threw punch after punch, no thought, no hesitation, just raw, unfiltered rage. Jun raised his arms to shield himself, but Jongho didn’t stop. His fists shifted from Jun’s face to his ribs, each hit heavier than the last.
“Say what you want about me—” he growled between punches.
“But if you ever fucking talk about her again—” another blow landed.
“I will fucking kill you!”
Before he could land another hit, a pair of arms hooked under his armpits and over his shoulders, yanking him backward. Jongho struggled, managing to land one last sharp kick to Jun’s side before he was fully pulled off.
“Hey! Chill the fuck out!”
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Jongho sat slouched in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. Across from him, Jun held an ice pack to his swollen face. Mr. Lee, the principal, was giving a lecture on violence, but neither of the boys was really listening.
Beside Jongho sat the man who had pulled him off Jun, Sergeant Choi San.
San leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “So what happened? Why’d you go crazy on the kid?”
Jongho turned his head toward him and muttered, “Tried to call my sister a whore.”
San nodded slowly. “Okay, valid reason. I probably would’ve reacted the same way… but you did take it a little too far.”
Jongho exhaled and gave a small nod. He was stubborn, but he wasn’t the type to deny it when he knew he was in the wrong.
Just then, the door opened and a man and a woman walked in. Mr. Lee immediately greeted them and led them toward the two boys. San stood up and bowed respectfully as Mr. Lee introduced him as the man who stopped the fight.
Jongho immediately sank lower in his chair, lowering his head in shame. He didn’t want to look at them. Jun’s parents had always treated him like their own when they were younger, and after what he had just done, he was sure they were disappointed.
“Jongho, are you going to apologize to him?” Mr. Lee asked, his tone firm.
With a sigh, Jongho lifted his gaze toward Jun.
“I’ll admit, I took it too far,” he said plainly, “but I’m not going to apologize for what I did because I don’t regret it.”
“Jongho!” Mr. Lee exclaimed, clearly offended by his bluntness. Jun rolled his eyes beside him.
“What? It’s the truth,” Jongho continued. “Why should I apologize? If he really wants me to, then maybe he should tell everyone here exactly what he said. I’m sure his parents would love to hear it.”
Jun’s eyes widened. He immediately looked away.
His parents turned to him, their expressions sharp with anticipation.
“Well?” his mother pressed.
“I didn’t say anything. He’s just making things up,” Jun mumbled.
Jongho straightened in his seat, a brow arched.
“Oh? You don’t want to? I can do it for you if you’d like.”
Jun shot him a glare that clearly said don’t you dare. Jongho ignored it.
“He told me how he wants to fuck my sister. He called her ‘easy’ and said she ‘easily opens her legs.’” Jongho finally turned his gaze to Jun’s parents. His voice was steady, eyes sharp. “So no, I won’t apologize. And if I ever hear him talk about her like that again, I'll do it again."
“Jun!” his mother snapped, glaring at him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have Jongho expelled—” Mr. Lee started.
“No, there’s no need. He’s a good kid, really. We’ve known him since he was young. He’s just going through a tough time,” Jun’s father cut in gently.
Mr. Lee nodded reluctantly. “But we may still have to suspend him.”
Jun’s mother stepped toward Jongho, crouching down in front of him. Her hand reached up to gently caress his cheek.
“I really hope you two can make up soon,” she said softly.
Jongho averted his gaze, his fists tightening in his lap.
“Even if you don’t,” she continued, “you can always come to us if you need anything, Jongho. I mean it.”
Her voice was soft, and her words, though simple, had stirred his emotions. For a moment, she almost sounded and looked just like his own mom. The urge to throw himself into her arms and cry was strong, but he reminded himself that she wasn’t his mother.
He nodded silently, afraid that if he opened his mouth, everything he’d been holding in would spill out.
She stood and joined her husband. After finishing their conversation with Mr. Lee, they left the room with Jun.
“Is your sister not coming?”
Jongho looked up at Mr. Lee and shrugged.
Mr. Lee clicked his tongue. “She’s probably tired of all your troublemaking,” he muttered under his breath.
Jongho held back a glare. Normally, comments like that wouldn’t bother him, but this time it stung. Maybe she is tired of him. Maybe she’d finally reached the point where she was too embarrassed to show her face and call him her brother. A small, heavy thought crept in…
Does she hate me now?
“I can step in as his guardian for today, if you’ll let me. I’ll take him home.”
Jongho had almost forgotten San was still there.
Mr. Lee cleared his throat and nodded. “Sure, sure. He’s dismissed. Your suspension starts today.”
Jongho had San take him to Yeosang's home, instead of his own.
As soon as they arrived, Jongho stepped out of the car without a word, not even a thank you, and hurried to the door. He knew the passcode, so he let himself in and went straight to Yeosang’s room.
Yeosang was sitting on a bean bag in front of his TV, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as Jongho entered and smiled.
Jongho didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The two of them rarely did. Around Yeosang, silence never felt awkward, and Jongho liked that because sometimes, he simply just didn’t want to talk.
He walked over and lowered himself onto the floor, resting his head on Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang’s fingers naturally slipped into his hair, gently combing through the strands.
The moment he felt that familiar touch, Jongho let out a long, shaky sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath all day. His eyes drifted shut, and his body relaxed against him.
It always amazed him how, with Yeosang, he could let his guard down so easily. He didn’t know what it was, maybe the quiet, maybe the unspoken understanding, but it was the only time he truly felt at ease.
Yeosang went back to scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other still threading through Jongho’s hair. The steady, absentminded touch felt grounding, and Jongho’s breathing slowed.
Some time passed with the two staying like this before Jongho broke the silence. His voice was quiet.
“I miss my mom and dad…”
Yeosang immediately put down his phone, bringing his full attention to him. This was the first time he had expressed how he felt. He had never spoken about his family or personal life. But it seemed like he was finally starting to open up. He reached for his hand, and gently squeezed it, thumb gently grazing over the wounds from earlier.
With a slow shaky breath, he continued speaking.
“I just…” he squeezed Yeosang’s hand. “I just want to be able to hug them again…I miss my moms cooking, my dads cheesy jokes…” Yeosang hums in response, just quietly listening. He notices a tear fall from his eye as Jongho moves to bury himself deeper against him, letting go of his hand to wrap his arms around his waist, his face pressed against his belly.
“I miss not being so broken and pathetic and a fucking dissappontment–” his voice cracks, followed by quiet whimper, hugging Yeosang tighter.
Yeosang once again brushes his fingers through Jongho's hair, soothing him as he quietly sobbed against him. After a moment, Yeosang finally spoke.
“I don’t think you’re pathetic nor a disappointment.” Jongho stayed silent. “What I see is a teen boy who is grieving the loss of two important people in his life, a boy who is still figuring himself out and how to accept this loss…it might be taking you a while but I think that’s okay.” He cups Jongho’s face in his hands and lifts his face up so he could look at him.
“I know you will find yourself again, Jongho, and I will stay by your side for however long you need me to.”
Jongho stared into Yeosang’s eyes, his vision growing blurry again. Yeosang slid off the bean bag to join Jongho on the floor, pulling him in close and wrapping his arms around him. Jongho buried his face against Yeosang’s neck, sniffling.
They stayed like that for a while as Yeosang comforted him.
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“Jongho had been attending MMA classes for years before we lost our parents, I’m more worried about the other kid than him,” Areum explained as she and Mingi were approaching the lot.
The air buzzed before she even realized what was happening. A sharp, electric hum filled her ears, too loud and too close. She barely had time to turn toward the sound when a burst of light flashed across her vision.
The explosion came a second later. A deafening crack, followed by a rush of heat that swept past her, carrying the smell of burning metal after a nearby fuse box had exploded.
Her body moved before her mind caught up. A scream ripped from her throat as she stumbled backward, hitting the ground hard. Her pulse spiked, breath stuttering as her surroundings blurred into noise and light.
Her hands pressed against the pavement, trying to ground herself, but it only made her feel the tremor in her own arms. The buzzing in her ears grew louder until it drowned everything out.
Her breathing turned rapid and shallow, sharp gasps tearing from her throat. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, making it harder to breathe. She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as her head began to spin, flashes of that day flooding her mind as if she were there all over again.
The towering flames. The thick black smoke swallowing everything whole. The heat searing her skin. The sound of people shouting and screaming until it all blurred together.
Even when she opened her eyes, the visions didn’t fade. The world around her wavered between then and now, and she couldn’t tell what was real anymore.
She then heard a distant voice calling her name. As she tried to focus on the voice it started to sound closer but almost muffled. It took a bit for her to make out what it was saying.
“Areum, Areum it’s me. It’s Mingi—”
Mingi? Mingi, it’s Mingi.
His voice was starting to grow clearer, though still a little muffled.
“I’m going to grab your hands, I need you to focus on me, on my voice…”
She felt his hands wrap around hers, his touch firm but gentle.
“I need you to breathe with me, alright? Squeeze my hands if you understand.”
And she did.
Her fingers squeezed weakly around his. It was the smallest sign of awareness, but for Mingi, it was enough. He exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he studied her face.
She was shaking. Her face was pale. And for the first time since he’d met her, she looked completely lost.
Thankfully, though at the same time, unfortunately, Mingi had seen enough to recognize a trauma response when he saw one. He’d been around soldiers and friends who carried scars far deeper than what anyone could see, and he’d learned to read the signs early on. The shaking hands, the shallow breathing, the look in their eyes as if they were no longer in the present world.
Back then, he had promised himself that if it ever happened again, he would know what to do. He did his research on it and how to handle it. So now, seeing Areum like this, he instinctively moved into action.
“Breathe with me, okay? Deep breath in…”
He inhaled slowly, exaggerating the motion so she could follow. Her breath came out shaky at first, but she mirrored him. He kept going, voice soft and steady, guiding her through each breath until hers began to even out.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now look at me. Wherever you just went, that’s not real. You’re here with me.”
Still holding one of her hands, he released the other to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked down her face. He tilted her chin up gently until her eyes met his. The second their gazes locked, her grip on his hand tightened.
“You’re right here, Areum. You’re safe,” he said quietly. “Can you tell me where you are?”
Her lips parted, her voice barely a whisper as the words escaped.
“...Here. With Mingi.”
For a moment, everything went still. It was the first time she had ever said his name without the title. Not Sergeant. Just Mingi.
Something in his chest tightened, but he pushed the thought aside, focusing on the trembling girl in front of him. This wasn’t the time. Still, hearing his name like that, it stuck with him.
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Can you stand?”
She nodded, and he helped her to her feet, steadying her with one arm around her waist while holding her hand in the other. His touch was gentle but firm as he guided her to the car.
He opened the passenger door, helped her inside, and buckled her seat belt before moving to the driver’s side.
After getting her address and entering it into the GPS, Mingi started the car. The ride was quiet. The hum of the engine filled the silence between them.
Areum leaned against the door, her head resting against the window as she watched the buildings slide past in a blur. Her hands sat in her lap, gripping and ungripping the hem of her hoodie.
Slowly, exhaustion began to settle over her. The weight of what had just happened, mixed with the days of lost sleep, pulled at her eyelids. Her fingers loosened, her breathing evened out, and before long, she drifted into a light sleep, still faintly aware of the world moving around her
She opened her eyes when she felt the car come to a stop. Mingi stepped out as she fumbled with her seatbelt, finally unclicking it just as he opened her door.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said.
She only nodded, too tired to argue.
Once they were inside the building and in the elevator, Mingi didn’t look away from her. He watched as she leaned against the wall, head bowed, fingers gripping the rail behind her.
He couldn’t help but wonder what she had gone through to react the way she did. What kind of memory could break through her composure like that? Where had her mind taken her?
He wanted to ask. He wanted to understand.
More than that, he wanted to protect her, to be someone she could lean on. But he knew better than to pry. Not yet. Not when she already looked like she might break if anyone pushed too hard.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, doors sliding open. He followed her down the hall to her door, standing just behind her as she keyed in the code to her apartment.
As she cracked the door open, she paused, her hand resting on the door handle before she turned toward him. “If… if it’s not too much to ask, can you stay with me for a bit?” she mumbled. “I just don’t want to be alone…”
She bit her lip nervously, looking up at him with quiet anticipation, her eyes soft and uncertain, like a puppy waiting for reassurance.
The sight of her melted something inside him. He nodded with a small smile, reaching out to gently pat her head.
“If you really want me to, I will.”
She nodded once more, relief washing over her features as she opened the door wider for him to follow her inside.
Once they were inside, he guided her to the sofa, sitting her down.
“I’m going to get you something to drink, okay?” he said, giving her head a light pat.
“I’m not really thirsty, it’s okay—”
He didn’t listen. Instead, he made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a cold bottle of water. When he returned, he twisted off the cap and held it out to her.
“Drink up.”
She took the bottle without argument and sipped, then kept sipping until nearly half of it was gone. Mingi chuckled, taking a seat beside her.
“I thought you weren’t thirsty,” he teased.
She pouted and shrugged, avoiding his gaze as she set down the bottle on the coffee table.
She leaned back against the sofa, her head resting on the cushion as a long, weary sigh escaped her. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing.
Mingi shifted beside her, settling in. He bent one leg up onto the cushion and turned slightly toward her, his elbow resting along the back of the sofa, head propped lazily against his fist. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough, and for now, that was all she seemed to need. He was happy to give her that.
Shifting a bit where she sat, Areum finally gave in to the exhaustion that weighed heavy in her body. Without thinking, she leaned forward and rested her head against Mingi’s thigh. It was not deliberate, her body simply moved on its own, seeking warmth and comfort.
He froze, his heart skipping a beat. He had not expected her to lay on him like that, and for a moment he did not know what to do. But when he looked down at her, his tension eased. Her expression was soft, her breathing slow and steady, her shoulders rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.
He was not sure what had gone through her mind, or why she had chosen to lean on him, but for her to drop her guard like this told him more than words ever could. She trusted him. And that meant more to Mingi than he could admit.
His hand hovered uncertainly above her for a moment before he finally let his fingers brush back a loose strand of hair from her face. Without realizing it, his touch lingered, fingertips tracing through her hair gently.
He watched her in silence, taking in the sight of her resting there. Seeing her so calm and unguarded made his heart stir.
Letting out a soft breath, he relaxed back against the sofa, his head resting on the cushion as he closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep himself.
It wasn’t until his smartwatch started buzzing against his wrist that he woke up. He was about to stretch when he felt her head still resting on his lap, the reminder of her presence making him pause.
He tilted his wrist to check the time, but blocking the clock was a new text message. With a sigh he read through them.
Unknown: Let’s meet
Unknown: Hello???
Unknown: I know you’re reading my messages
Unknown: For fucksake answer me
Unknown: Please???
Unknown: I miss you…
Unknown: Mingi let’s just talk that’s all I want
He rolled his eyes and deleted the messages immediately. He had been getting messages like that for months now, all from different numbers but clearly the same person. The thought made his jaw tighten. Maybe it was time to finally change his number.
He sighed and looked at the time again. An hour had passed since he’d been there.
Deciding he should leave, he gently lifted her head, sliding out from beneath her and replacing his thigh with a throw pillow from the sofa. He glanced around for something to cover her with and spotted a throw blanket draped over the chair. Grabbing it, he unfolded it and laid it over her carefully.
He lingered for a moment, eyes tracing the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders beneath the blanket. The peacefulness in her face eased his mind from any worry he had since the fuse box explosion from earlier.
Stepping quietly, he grabbed his jacket from where he had set it earlier and made his way to the door. His hand rested on the handle for a second, and he glanced back once more before he slipped out, closing the door behind him with care, leaving the apartment wrapped in silence.
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“So, you think she has it?” The man’s finger tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound echoing faintly through the dimly lit room.
“It would make sense. We’ve searched everywhere else,” the other replied.
The first man leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he thought. “Hmm… track her down, then. Find a way to get to it.”
A slow smirk spread across the second man’s face. “Already ahead of you, boss.”
The first man didn’t return the smile. He just looked out the window, the city lights flickering across his face.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Make sure there are no loose ends this time.”
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