6:20 AM – Junghan's House
The alarm buzzes.
Junghan opens his eyes slowly, as if the air itself is heavy. For a moment, he stares at the ceiling, aware of the familiar ache in his chest — the kind that arrives even before his feet touch the floor.
A knock. Sharp. Irritated.
"Kim Junghan. Wake up."
His mother's voice slices through the quiet.
He sits up immediately.
"Yes, I'm up."
She doesn't wait. She pushes the door open.
Mrs Kim stands there, her arms crossed, her expression already disappointed.
"You're late again. Do you enjoy stressing me out every morning?"
Junghan lowers his gaze.
"It's 6:20. School starts at 8."
"And you still argue? God, why are you like this?"
He swallows his words.
Mrs Kim scans the room — neat, organized, spotless — and still shakes her head.
"You know… if your brother were alive, he wouldn't make me this tired."
The sentence hits him like a slap.
He stays still. Silent. Breathing carefully.
Mrs Kim clicks her tongue.
"Don't be late. And fix your face. You look miserable."
She leaves.
The door shuts.
Junghan finally exhales — long, shaky, quiet.
He presses a hand over his forehead.
Not again.
Not this early.
His eyes burn, but no tears fall.
They rarely do.
Meanwhile — Haeyoung's House
"HAEYOUNG! WAKE UP BEFORE I POUR WATER ON YOU!"
Mrs Hong's scream echoes through the hallway.
Haeyoung jumps out of bed like she's been electrocuted.
"I'M AWAKE, WOMAN! PLEASE DON'T RUIN MY HAIR BEFORE SCHOOL!"
Mrs Hong laughs.
"You'll manage. You're pretty even when you're crying."
"Thanks, Mom… I guess?"
She grabs her uniform skirt, misses her footing, and nearly trips.
From the kitchen:
"STOP RUNNING LIKE A BABY GIRAFFE!"
"I CAN'T HELP IT, MY LEGS ARE LONG!"
Mr Hong chuckles behind his newspaper.
"It's literally 7 AM and the circus has started."
Haeyoung rushes down, grabs toast, kisses both parents on the cheek.
"I'm going! Bye! Love you!"
"Take care!"
"Try not to break anything today!"
School Gate
Haeyoung spots him immediately.
Junghan.
Standing near the gate, backpack on one shoulder, hair slightly messy from rushing, eyes quiet like he didn't sleep.
She frowns.
That's not his normal quiet.
That's… "something happened" quiet.
She walks to him and stops directly in front of his face.
"Morning."
"Morning."
His voice is low, softer than usual.
She narrows her eyes.
"You look like a sad dumpling."
He blinks. "A what—"
"A SAD dumpling. Who hurt you? Tell me."
"Haeyoung—"
"Don't 'Haeyoung' me." She steps closer. "Did you sleep? Did you eat? Did someone yell at you? Wait—don't tell me, your mom—"
He stiffens.
Just a second.
But she sees it.
Her expression drops.
"Hey… Junghan."
Her voice softens.
"What happened?"
He forces a tiny smile.
"It's fine."
"Don't lie."
"It's really—"
"Junghan." Her tone becomes serious. "Look at me."
He meets her eyes.
She doesn't speak for a moment. Her gaze scans his face gently — the faint redness around his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the silence in his posture.
Without warning, she steps forward and lightly bumps her forehead against his.
"Stop pretending you're okay. I can literally see your soul crying."
He lets out a breath — half laugh, half sigh.
"I'm okay," he whispers.
"You're not," she whispers back.
A moment of silence.
Crowds move around them, loud, chaotic, but the world feels strangely quiet for the two of them.
She finally pulls back, cups his cheeks with both hands, and glares with playful annoyance.
"If you keep stuff from me, I swear I'll beat you with my math textbook."
That earns a real smile.
Small.
But real.
"There it is," she murmurs. "Your face looks better when you're not dying internally."
Classroom
As they walk inside together, two girls rush over.
Hana jumps dramatically in front of them.
"BREAKING NEWS! Did you two secretly date over the weekend?!"
Haeyoung slaps her arm.
"SHUT UP."
Hana gasps. "Violence! In front of witnesses!"
Ji Eun walks over quietly.
"Did you guys eat breakfast…? Also, Junghan, you look tired."
Haeyoung: "See?! Even Ji Eun noticed!"
Junghan rubs his neck.
"I'm fine. Really."
Hana leans closer to Ji Eun and whispers loudly:
"He's lying."
"I know," Ji Eun whispers back.
"I CAN HEAR YOU BOTH," Junghan says.
They laugh.
Lunch Break
Cafeteria chaos.
Haeyoung piles too much food on her tray.
Hana: "Girl, are you feeding a village?"
Haeyoung: "I'M HUNGRY."
Ji Eun: "You always say that."
As they sit, someone calls out:
"Yo! Junghan!"
Daeho drops into the seat across from him, loud as always.
"Why do you look dead? Who killed you? Name them. I'll fight."
Junghan groans. "No one killed me."
Dojin sits beside Daeho, calm, pushing his glasses up.
"He's tired. His eyes show emotional turbulence."
Daeho stares. "…His what?"
"Emotional turbulence," Dojin repeats.
Haeyoung: "THANK YOU. Finally someone with eyes."
Daeho looks between them.
"Why does everyone analyze him like he's a K-drama male lead going through trauma?"
Everyone becomes silent.
Junghan clears his throat.
"…because I am?"
They burst into laughter.
As they eat, Min Jisoo passes by with his friend group.
Tall, handsome, effortlessly cool.
Haeyoung freezes mid-bite.
Hana LOOKS at her LOOKING at him.
Hana whispers, "Your idiot is here."
"Shut up," Haeyoung hisses.
Jisoo stops at their table.
"Hey, Haeyoung. Did you finish the literature homework?"
Her heart jumps.
"I—uh—yeah, kinda—why?"
"Can I borrow it later?"
She nods quickly.
"Sure."
Jisoo smiles. "Thanks."
He leaves.
Hana kicks her under the table.
"He smiled at you."
Haeyoung screams internally.
"Stop— I know— I saw—"
Ji Eun smiles softly.
"You like him a lot."
Junghan sits silently, poking his food.
Daeho leans toward him.
"You okay, man?"
"I'm fine."
But Daeho exchanges a look with Dojin.
Junghan's eyes follow Haeyoung watching Jisoo walk away.
His chest tightens.
Suddenly, a soft voice calls:
"Junghan…"
It's Kang Seri.
Elegant. Sweet. Too perfect.
She gives him a shy smile.
"I made extra sandwiches today. Do you… want one?"
Haeyoung raises an eyebrow.
Junghan clears his throat.
"Ah—Seri. Thanks, but I'm okay."
Seri's smile falters, just a little.
"Oh. Okay. Maybe next time."
She walks away slowly.
Hana whispers, "Broooo she likes you."
Ji Eun nods. "She really does…"
Haeyoung rolls her eyes.
"No she doesn't. She's just nice."
Hana smirks.
"And YOU are blind."
Haeyoung: "Shut. Up."
Junghan quietly drinks his water, pretending he heard nothing.
After School
Outside the school gate, students scatter.
Junghan and Haeyoung walk together.
She glances at him for the 10th time.
"You're too quiet."
"I'm always quiet," he says softly.
"Not like this."
He stops walking.
She stops beside him.
For a moment, neither speaks.
Then he whispers, "My mom… was in a bad mood again."
Haeyoung's face instantly softens.
"What did she say?"
"Nothing new."
He shrugs. "Just… blame."
Her jaw tightens.
"Junghan…"
He shakes his head.
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
She steps closer.
"Don't say that. That's not something you should get used to."
He stays quiet.
Haeyoung's voice becomes gentle, almost fragile.
"Come here."
And before he can react, she wraps her arms around him — tight, warm, protective.
Junghan freezes.
No one hugs him like this.
No one holds him like he matters.
He slowly lifts his arms and hugs her back, burying his face in her shoulder for a brief second.
She whispers,
"You're not alone, okay? Even if your mom screams… even if your house feels cold… you have me."
His breath trembles.
"…Thank you."
She pulls back and smiles.
"Always."
The hug ended, but the silence after it didn't.
Haeyoung stepped back, folding her arms.
"Okay. That's it. You're coming with me."
Junghan blinked.
"…Coming where?"
"To my house."
She grabs his wrist.
"For dinner. For warmth. For real food. For escape. I don't care, you're coming."
"I can't—"
"NO arguments."
He sighs.
"Haeyoung—"
She tightens her grip on his wrist.
"Kim Junghan. If you say no, I'll cry. Loudly. In public."
He stares at her.
"You're impossible."
"And you're coming."
She pulls him forward. "Let's go."
He doesn't resist.
Hong Residence
The door swings open and Mrs Hong stands there like the CEO of Warmth.
"OH? JUNGHAN! You came!"
Haeyoung pushes him inside.
"He didn't come. I dragged him."
Mrs Hong laughs and ruffles his hair.
"Good. Come in, sweetheart. You're looking thinner again. Are you not eating?"
Junghan blushes.
"I eat, Auntie…"
"Lies."
She taps his cheek. "I'll fix a big dinner."
From the living room, Mr Hong looks up from his laptop.
"Ah, Junghan. Welcome. Trouble with my daughter again?"
Junghan smiles shyly.
"No, Uncle. She's always trouble."
"HEY!"
Haeyoung throws her backpack at him.
Mr Hong chuckles.
"Kids, wash hands. Dinner in five."
Dinner Table — Warmth in Every Detail
The table fills with bowls — kimchi, japchae, grilled chicken, rice, soup, sauces. A feast.
Mrs Hong: "Eat a lot, Junghan. You're too quiet today."
Haeyoung gives him a knowing look.
"See? Even my mom knows your mood."
Junghan lowers his gaze.
"I'm okay, Auntie. Just tired."
Mr Hong watches him carefully.
"How's school? Any stress?"
Haeyoung jumps in.
"His mom scolded him again."
Junghan jolts.
"HAEYOUNG—!"
"What? They SHOULD know."
Mrs Hong clicks her tongue.
"That woman needs therapy. Not a son to yell at."
Junghan blushes.
"Auntie…"
"I'm right and you know it."
She pats his hand.
"You're always welcome here."
Mr Hong nods.
"You're like our son, Junghan. Don't forget that."
Something burns in his chest.
Not pain.
Something softer.
Something he rarely feels.
Haeyoung nudges him.
"Eat before Mom cries dramatically."
"HEY!"
Mrs Hong throws a napkin at her.
They all laugh.
For a moment…
Junghan feels normal.
Safe.
Wanted.
And he eats — really eats — for the first time in days.
Outside the Gate —
Haeyoung walks him out.
She crosses her arms, tilting her head.
"Feeling better?"
Junghan looks down at her.
"…Yeah."
"You sure?"
He hesitates.
Then nods.
She steps closer and fixes the collar of his jacket.
"If anything happens again, you call me. I'm not kidding."
He softly smiles.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now go. Before your mom becomes a dragon."
He laughs — tired but genuine.
"Good night, Haeyoung."
"Good night, dumpling."
He walks away.
She watches until he disappears.
Kim House
He hears yelling before he even steps inside.
His mom's voice.
Sharp. Furious.
His father's voice.
Tired. Trying to calm her.
He slowly opens the door.
His mom turns immediately.
Her eyes burning.
"WHERE WERE YOU?!"
He freezes.
"I—I was at Haeyoung's house. For—"
"For WHAT? For playing? For being useless as always?!"
"Dinner," he whispers.
"Dinner?!" she screams.
"So you can eat happily while I rot here?! While I suffer every day because of YOU?!"
"Mom—"
"DON'T call me that!"
She steps closer, finger pointed at his chest.
"You… if that day… if you had saved your brother—"
His father: "Honey, stop—"
"No! Let me talk!"
Her voice cracks, not from sadness but rage.
"If you had saved Jungsan… I wouldn't be living like this! I wouldn't be alone! I wouldn't be miserable!"
Junghan's throat closes.
Mrs Kim continues, tears of anger spilling.
"He was better than you in everything! Kinder! Smarter! More precious!"
She shakes her head.
"Sometimes… I wish it was YOU who—"
"Honey!"
Mr Kim steps forward, grabbing her shoulders.
"That's enough!"
She fights his grip, still yelling.
"You should've died instead of him! You should've—"
"STOP!"
Mr Kim's voice booms through the house.
Silence falls.
Mrs Kim, breathing hard, pushes past them and slams her bedroom door.
Junghan stands frozen.
His father turns to him slowly, his face breaking.
"Son…"
He steps closer and gently places his hands on Junghan's shoulders.
"Don't listen to her. She's hurting. She doesn't mean it."
Junghan's voice is barely a breath.
"But she's right… I—"
"She's NOT."
His father grips him tighter.
"You hear me? She's not."
A long moment.
Then his father sighs and pulls him in for a hug.
"You're my son. My responsibility. My pride. Don't let anyone, not even your mother, take that away."
Junghan closes his eyes.
His father strokes his hair.
"Did you eat?"
Junghan nods.
"Haeyoung took me to her home. Auntie made dinner."
Mr Kim smiles softly.
"That girl… she knows you better than anyone."
He squeezes his shoulder.
"She has this magic — she always brings you back to life."
Junghan lets out a tiny exhale.
"…Yeah. She does."
His father pats his cheek.
"Good. Now sleep, okay?"
"I will."
Late Night
Junghan sleeps.
And the nightmare returns.
He's younger — around nine.
Small hands. Soft voice.
He and his older brother, Jungsan, run across the terrace.
"Catch me, slowpoke!" Jungsan teases.
"Hyung! Stop!"
Junghan laughs, chasing him.
Jungsan keeps running backward, still teasing.
"Come on! You can't even—"
His foot slips.
Everything slows.
"HYUNG!"
Jungsan's scream cuts through the air as he falls from the terrace edge.
The thud.
The silence.
The blood.
Small Junghan collapses, shaking, crying, calling for help.
"HYUUUNG—!"
3:02 AM — Junghan Wakes
He gasps awake, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
Tears finally fall.
He wipes them silently.
This dream comes every night.
And every night…
he wakes feeling like a murderer.
He curls his knees to his chest and buries his face into them.
Whispering to no one:
"I'm sorry… hyung…"