Morning came with a bitterness the sky couldn't hide.
Clouds hung low, thick and gray, as Elian stood at the bus stop. He hugged his notebook to his chest, foot tapping lightly against the pavement. He had been waiting longer than usual.
Normally, Juni came running around the corner breathless, laughing, complaining about oversleeping.
Today—No Juni.
Elian checked the time again.
Five minutes late.
Seven.
Ten.
A knot of worry tightened in his stomach. When the bus finally arrived, Elian boarded slowly, unwilling to accept the possibility that Juni might not come. He took their usual seat. The bus doors began to close.
Then— "Wait! Hold on—!"
Juni sprinted into view, nearly tripping over the curb. He stumbled inside, breathing heavily, bowing repeatedly to the annoyed driver before making his way down the aisle.
Elian turned toward him—and froze.
Juni looked… wrong.
His hair was messy in a way that wasn't cute or rushed—it was limp, unwashed. His eyes were slightly puffy, as if he'd slept poorly… or not at all. His uniform was more wrinkled than usual, and he kept his right arm tucked firmly against his body.
He dropped into the seat beside Elian with a forced grin.
"Morning!" But his voice cracked.
Elian swallowed.
"Juni… what happened?"
Juni flinched. Tucked his chin. Shrugged.
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
Elian didn't believe him for a second.
The bus bumped over a pothole. Juni winced sharply—his entire body tensing. Elian's heart lurched. Without thinking, he reached for Juni's hand. Juni jerked back—but too late. His sleeve shifted just enough. Elian saw it clearly now.
A dark bruise, blooming across the upper arm—angry and swollen, far worse than yesterday.
Elian's breath hitched.
"Juni."
A whisper.
A plea.
"Who did this?"
Juni's eyes went wide, panic rising fast. He pulled his sleeve down instantly, clutching his arm protectively.
"I said it's nothing."
Elian shook his head gently.
"Bruises don't get worse if they're nothing."
Juni bit his lip. His gaze dropped to his hands, trembling slightly in his lap.
"I fell."
Elian's voice softened even further.
"Please don't lie to me."
Juni froze.
His chest rose and fell—shallow, uneven. His mask slipped again, revealing exhaustion, fear, and something tightly bottled beneath the surface. For a moment, it looked like he might speak. Might tell the truth.
But the bus pulled into school, and Juni sprang up too quickly.
"We're here—let's go!"
He rushed off before Elian could reach him. Elian remained seated for a moment, staring at the empty space Juni left behind.
Something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
And Elian felt a burning in his chest—fear, anger, protectiveness—all tangled together.
He wasn't going to ignore it.
That evening, Elian sat at the dinner table, pushing food around his plate without touching it. Lorian watched him in silence for a few minutes.
Finally— "Elian."
Elian looked up.
Lorian's voice was gentle, but firm.
"You've been quiet all evening. Did something happen at school?"
Elian hesitated.
Juni's fearful expression flashed in his mind—the bruises, the deflections, the shaky smiles.
"…A friend is hurt."
Lorian's brows softened, eyes filled with concern. "Are they safe?"
Elian shook his head.
"I don't know."
Lorian leaned forward.
"Do you trust this friend?"
Elian nodded.
"More than anyone."
A small smile tugged at Lorian's lips.
"Then help them. But gently."
Elian blinked. "How?"
Lorian reached out, brushing Elian's temple—a father's quiet comfort.
"With patience. Kindness. And by showing them they don't have to hide."
Elian swallowed hard.
Lorian knew.
He didn't say it, but he knew.
The following afternoon, students poured out of the school gates. Juni walked beside Elian, joking about something a classmate said—but his laughter was thin, brittle. They turned down a quiet side street where the bus stop was empty.
Juni suddenly stopped walking. His shoulders trembled.
Elian turned. "Juni?"
Juni pressed a hand over his eyes, teeth clenched.
"…Elian. It really doesn't concern you."
Elian stepped closer.
"You're shaking."
Juni let out a shaky breath—half laugh, half sob.
"I don't want you to see me like this."
Elian's heart cracked. Not broke—cracked, like the first split in something tightly locked away. "…Why?"
Juni's voice trembled.
"Because you're Elian. You're… good. And smart. And calm. And perfect. And I'm—"
His voice caught.
"I'm a mess."
He clutched the bruised arm instinctively. Elian reached out slowly, carefully, giving Juni every chance to pull away. Juni didn't. Elian's fingers touched Juni's wrist—softly, gently—and held.
"You're not a mess."
Juni blinked rapidly, eyes wet.
Elian stepped closer.
"You're hurt."
Juni swallowed.
"I don't want you to hate me."
Elian felt something inside him snap—soft, bright, fierce.
He cupped Juni's cheek with trembling fingers. "I could never hate you."
Juni closed his eyes. And for the first time—he didn't hide. He didn't smile. He didn't pretend. He let himself lean—just slightly—into Elian's hand.
Exhausted.
Hurting.
Vulnerable.
Elian held him steady.