*Five months ago*
Taesan's eyes slowly fluttered open, the harsh white hospital light above him blurring his vision for a moment. A dull ache spread through his body, as if every bone and muscle had been bruised beyond repair. His mind felt heavy and distant, still struggling to piece together the fragments of what happened.
With effort, he lifted his head from the pillow. The movement sent a faint wave of pain through his neck and shoulders. His eyes drifted across the unfamiliar room, taking in the pale walls, the quiet hum of medical machines, and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Everything felt distant and unreal, as though he had woken inside a world that does not quite belong to him.
The soft beep of medical equipment filled the air. Bandages were wrapped around his torso, his arms, and his legs, and a sharp dull pain radiated through him as he moved even the slightest bit. He blinked, trying to focus, the remnants of an explosion still fresh in his memory.
And then, there's a face; one he recognized, one he never thought he'd see again.
Hajun.
The same man who had always been his ally, his friend, and, at times, his confidant. Now, Hajun's expression was a mixture of relief and concern as he watched Taesan's confused movements.
"You're awake," Hajun said softly, his voice warm, almost affectionate. "I thought you were gone for good this time."
Taesan's eyes narrowed as he tried to sit up, wincing as the pain intensified. His body felt unfamiliar—he was sore, bruised, and broken in ways he couldn't comprehend. His heart was still pounding from the memories of that final moment, the explosion, and the harsh reality of what had just happened with Jaewon. "Jaewon…" His breath caught in his throat as a flood of emotions crashed over him, the memories of their betrayal, love, and pain flashing vividly before his eyes.
"Why… why did you save me?"
Taesan's voice cracked, barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes met Hajun's, a mixture of anger and confusion in his gaze. "Why didn't you let me die?"
Hajun's expression softened, and he moved closer to the bed, resting a hand on Taesan's good arm gently. "You really want to know? You were in pieces, Taesan. You were dying. I wasn't going to let you go just like that. I'm not that heartless." His voice was steady, but there's an undeniable weight in his words, a sorrow that Taesan can't quite place. "I couldn't just leave you there. You... you mean something to me."
Taesan's mind spun, the harsh reality of the situation sinking deeper into his bones. One month. One whole month had passed since the explosion, since everything fell apart. One month of laying unconscious in a hospital bed while the world moved on without him. He felt the weight of everything he's lost—the betrayal, the devastation, and the violence that brought him to this point. And yet, there's something in Hajun's words that stroke a chord within him. It's the first time in months that he's heard someone express care for him without ulterior motives.
Taesan's gaze slowly drifted downward.
The sterile light of the hospital room pressed against his eyes, dull and colorless, but his attention was fixed on the unfamiliar landscape of his own body. Thick white bandages are wrapped across his chest and shoulder, the gauze layered carefully like fragile armor. His breathing was shallow, each inhale carrying a faint sting beneath his ribs. For a long moment he simply stared. Then his eyes moved to his left side.
Something felt wrong.
Not pain exactly. Pain he could understand. This was something stranger. A hollow sensation that crawled through his nerves like a ghost whispering through empty space. His heart began to pound slowly.
He lifted his right hand, fingers trembling as they ghosted over the stump, the skin puckered and raw beneath the gauze. It didn't feel right—none of it did. A dull throb pulsed there, not just in the flesh but deeper, in the ghost of nerves that screamed for what was severed. Horror bloomed in his chest, cold and viscous, crashing over him like a tidal wave. How much had the fire stolen? How much of himself had burned away in that inferno?
"You lost it."
Hajun's voice beside him broke through the silence.
"The explosion shredded everything below the shoulder. But we found a good prosthetic arm for you. But, it'll take time, probably months of rehab, pain you can't imagine yet—but it's yours now."
The idea felt distant and unsettling, like a foreign object lodged inside his mind.
The prosthetic hand felt like a strange object grafted onto his body, cold and unyielding where flesh should yield and warm. Taesan flexed his fingers experimentally, and a sharp, phantom ache shot through the metal joints, as if the ghost of his severed limb were screaming in protest.
The titanium alloy gleamed dully under the dim hospital light, its surface etched with faint scars from hasty assembly—seamless to the eye, but to him, it buzzed with an alien vibration, every nerve ending in his stump raw and inflamed, buzzing like exposed wires. It wasn't just metal; it was a mockery, heavier than his old hand, pulling at his shoulder with an unnatural weight that made his arm throb relentlessly.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared at it, the clinical low-pitched whizz humming faintly when he clenched a fist. This wasn't him. This was survival's cruel joke, a machine pretending to be him.
His mind drifted slowly through fragments of memory that refuse to settle into a clear picture. Images flashed behind his eyes like broken pieces of glass.
The car.
The flames.
Jaewon's voice.
Betrayal.
Then darkness.
His breathing became uneven as he shifted slightly. A sharp discomfort ran through his body. The betrayal sank in like a knife. And then oblivion. Now, here he was, pieced together in this sterile room that smelled of antiseptic and regret.
"Why didn't you let me die?" Taesan repeated, his voice cracking, raw with grief and a frustration that clawed at his chest. The words hung heavy in the air, unanswered, thickening the silence between them.
Hajun exhaled slowly, deeply, his fingers trailing over his own weathered face as if tracing the map of his own scars for the right path forward. He leaned forward in the creaky chair, elbows on his knees, eyes locking onto Taesan's with a gentleness that hurt to witness.
"Because I know you, Taesan. Better than you think. I know you're not the type to check out like that. Not after all the hell you've clawed through." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck, searching Taesan's gaze.
"And listen... I know there's still fire in you. Something worth fighting for. You might not see it right now, buried under all this shit, but there's a reason you're still breathing. A reason I couldn't just... let go of you."
"Don't feed me that crap about reasons, Hajun."
Taesan glared, his new hand twitching involuntarily, sending fresh jolts of pain lancing up his arm, like blood flowing through his phantom veins. His heart pounded, a battlefield of rage and loss, every beat echoing the void Jaewon had carved out.
He didn't want reasons. Didn't want purpose peddled like cheap medicine. All he felt was the crush of betrayal, the searing ache where trust used to live.
He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and drift away to a place where nothing existed. No pain. No happiness. Only silence.
"Everything's gone to hell. Jaewon... God, Jaewon. He was the one person I let in. The one I loved, trusted with everything. And he played me. Used me like some damn pawn in his twisted game."
The prosthetic clenched against his will, servos whining softly, amplifying the humiliation. "It's all fake. Every bit of it. I can't fight anymore. I just want it over. All of it."
"Hey. You're not alone in this mess, Taesan. Not even close. And I'm not about to watch you throw in the towel. Not yet. Jaewon... yeah, he screwed you over bad. I get it. But there's more to this story. There might still be a way through the wreckage. You gotta see that, man. At least try." Hajun's eyes shadowed, darkening with a flicker of shared pain.
"I don't know, Hajun. I don't know how much more I can take. Trust? That's shattered. Gone. Everything hurts. This... this thing on my arm."
He lifted it slightly, the metal glinting accusingly. "It doesn't even feel like mine. It's heavy, cold. Every move is agony, like my body's fighting it. And my head... the memories keep looping. Jaewon's smile before the crash, the way he looked at me like I was nothing."
"I just... I can't keep going like this."