The air in the hallway settled after Ha Jun's trembling slowed. The world seemed quieter, almost respectful, as if it sensed the rawness inside him and chose not to intrude. Ji Hye still sat close beside him, her arm around his shoulders, offering silent warmth where words could not reach.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were still red but calmer. His hands rested weakly in his lap as if they had forgotten their purpose.
"I am sorry," he whispered.
He had said those words too many times in his life. They clung to him like dust that never washed off.
Ji Hye shook her head firmly.
"Do not apologize for feeling."
"It was in front of everyone," he murmured.
"Let them look," she replied softly.
"You are human. Humans break sometimes."
Her voice held no judgment. Only truth. Only gentleness. Only that quiet fire in her that always reached him even when his world was falling apart.
Students passed by with hesitant glances, pretending not to stare but failing. Some whispered. Some looked troubled. Some simply turned away.
Ha Jun wiped his face slowly with shaky fingers.
"I did not want anyone to see me like that. Never again."
"Why not," Ji Hye asked.
He swallowed.
"Because it makes everything real."
He rarely said such honest things out loud. The moment the words left him, his chest tightened again, but not as painfully as before. More like an ache that needed to breathe.
Ji Hye touched his arm gently.
"It was real long before today. You just stopped hiding it for one moment. That is all."
A silence followed. A quiet one. Not heavy. Just still.
She stood and offered him her hand.
"Come. Let us get out of here for a while."
He hesitated before taking her hand. The warmth of her fingers steadied him again. She helped him stand, careful and slow, as if the ground might tilt beneath him.
They left the building and stepped into the open courtyard. The rain had stopped but everything was still wet. Leaves glistened. Puddles reflected the faint brightness of the sky.
"Where do you want to go," she asked.
He shook his head.
"I do not know."
"We can walk until you decide."
So they walked.
Neither spoke for a long while. Their steps echoed softly across the wet pavement. The campus looked softer after the rain, like a painting that had been smudged around the edges.
Eventually they reached a small park behind the science building. It was always quiet there. A single bench sat underneath an old tree whose branches drooped like tired arms.
They sat.
The silence between them felt gentle. Healing. The kind of silence that supports rather than suffocates.
Finally Ha Jun spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I thought I was doing better."
"You are," Ji Hye said.
"It does not feel like it."
She turned slightly toward him.
"Progress is not a straight road. Some days you will feel lighter. Some days you will feel lost again. But every day you survive counts."
He let her words sink in, but doubt still clung to him.
"I feel like I am a burden," he admitted.
"To you. To my family. To everyone."
"You are not."
"How do you know."
"Because I am here," she said simply.
"And I would not be here if you were a burden."
Her honesty hit him harder than he expected. Something in his chest loosened.
His voice trembled as he asked,
"Why do you care so much."
Ji Hye looked down, her fingers tracing the edge of the bench.
"Because I know what it feels like to pretend everything is fine when it is not."
He blinked.
"You do."
She nodded slowly.
"I used to think I had to be perfect. Quiet. Reliable. I thought I had to hold everything together for my family. For myself. But it hurt. It really hurt. And no one noticed for a long time."
He stared at her quietly.
She had never spoken of this before.
"I know you carry so much," she continued softly.
"So let me carry a little of it with you."
A lump formed in his throat.
He turned away and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the softness in her words.
"Thank you," he whispered.
She smiled gently.
"Always."
The wind passed through the trees, shaking drops of water onto the ground. Birds began to sing in distant branches, their voices small yet persistent.
For the first time in days, Ha Jun felt himself exhale without force.
But just as the world seemed to steady, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out slowly.
A message from his older sister.
Call me when you can. It is important.
A small chill passed through him.
Ji Hye noticed the shift in his posture.
"What is it."
He stared at the screen for a long moment before speaking.
"I think something happened."
She watched him with quiet worry.
"Please call her."
He stood slowly and stepped a few paces away before dialing. His hands shook as he held the phone to his ear.
"Unnie," he said quietly when she answered.
Her breath on the other end sounded uneven.
"Jun ah. There is something you need to hear."
His heart tightened.
"What is wrong."
A pause.
A long quiet pause that felt like the world holding its breath.
Then she spoke.
And whatever she said made Ha Jun freeze completely.
His expression changed.
His breath stopped.
His fingers loosened.
The phone slipped from his hand and hit the wet ground.
Ji Hye rushed to him.
"Jun. What is it. What happened."
But his voice did not answer.
His eyes stared forward, unfocused and shaken, as if the ground beneath him had shattered without sound.
The chapter ends here.
With a revelation unspoken.
A boy standing in the quiet after a storm.
And the world suddenly shifting again.