The room was quiet except for the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. Sunlight filtered through the barred window, casting long shadows across the prison visitor's room. Seong Taehoon sat across from Ji Yeonwoo, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind swirling with thoughts he couldn't quite untangle.

Three years. Three years since that fateful night when Taehoon had saved Yeonwoo from himself. Three years since the arrest, the trial, and the conviction. Three long years, and yet, despite everything, Taehoon couldn't shake the feelings that had grown between them during that time.

Yeonwoo had changed, undeniably so. The drugs were long gone from his system, but he was still a shadow of the man he once was. His body was frail, weakened by the years of abuse, his movements slower, more deliberate. Yet despite it all, Taehoon had seen glimmers of the old Yeonwoo—the strong, selfless, gentle soul he had once admired from afar.

And now, sitting across from Yeonwoo, Taehoon felt the weight of his unspoken words pressing against his chest.

"Ji Yeonwoo," Taehoon began, "there's something I need to ask you."

Yeonwoo looked up from the table, his eyes clear and sharp in the afternoon light, a stark contrast to the fog of their past. He had grown more composed, more at peace in some ways, but there was still a flicker of uncertainty that lingered just beneath the surface.

"What is it?" Yeonwoo asked cautiously. He had learned to be cautious with hope, learned that nothing was guaranteed in his world anymore.

Taehoon swallowed, his heart pounding so loud he was sure Yeonwoo could hear it. "I've been thinking a lot about... us. About everything we've been through."

Yeonwoo remained silent, his eyes searching Taehoon's face as if trying to decipher the words before they were spoken.

"We've known each other for years now. And I've seen you change, grow, become someone stronger, someone better. And..." Taehoon hesitated, the words suddenly feeling heavy on his tongue. He had rehearsed this moment in his head countless times, but now that it was here, it felt terrifyingly real. "I... I've fallen for you, Yeonwoo. I think I have for a long time. I just didn't realize it before."

The silence that followed felt like it stretched on for an eternity. Yeonwoo's expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered with something—shock, perhaps, or confusion.

"Taehoon..." Yeonwoo said quietly, shaking his head. "I don't... I don't think that's a good idea."

Taehoon's heart sank, but he forced himself to stay calm.

"Why not?" he asked.

Yeonwoo looked down at his hands on his lap. "I'm a convict. I've done things that can't be undone. I'm... I'm broken, Taehoon. And I don't want you to waste your love on someone like me. You deserve someone whole."

Taehoon leaned forward. "You're not broken," he said, his voice firm. "You've been through hell, but you're not broken. I see the man you are, the man you've always been, and I... I love him."

Yeonwoo shook his head again. "You don't understand. I'm not... Right now, my future's unclear. I'm clean, but I'm still a cripple, still a convict. My whole life is a mess. Being your friend—being friends with you—is more than enough for me."

Taehoon's chest tightened, the words cutting deeper than he expected. He had braced himself for this, for the possibility that Yeonwoo might say no, but it didn't make the rejection any easier.

"But I don't want just your friendship!" Taehoon insisted. "I want to be there for you, not just as a friend, but as someone who loves you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Yeonwoo met his gaze, eyes filled with sorrow. "You can be what I need, but I can't be what you need, Taehoon," he whispered. "And I don't want to hold you back. You've already done so much for me. Don't... don't give me more than I deserve."

Taehoon opened his mouth to argue, to tell Yeonwoo that he was everything Taehoon needed, that he deserved every bit of love and more, but the look in Yeonwoo's eyes stopped him. It wasn't just self-doubt; it was something deeper—an unshakable belief that he wasn't worth saving, that he wasn't worth loving.

Taehoon's heart broke a little more in that moment.

"Is that how you really feel?" Taehoon asked softly.

Yeonwoo nodded, his expression resolute, even as his voice wavered. "It's... it's better this way. For both of us."

Taehoon clenched his fists under the table, trying to keep his emotions in check. He wanted to scream, to shake Yeonwoo, to make him see that he was worth everything, worth fighting for. But instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile, even though it hurt more than anything.

"I promised I'd help you," Taehoon said quietly. "I'll still do everything I can to get you out of here sooner. I'm not going to stop caring about you just because you don't want to be with me."

Yeonwoo's gaze softened, and for a brief moment, Taehoon thought he saw something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or gratitude. "Thank you," Yeonwoo whispered. "For everything. But I can't... I just can't. I'm sorry."

Taehoon nodded, though every fiber of his being wanted to protest, to fight against the inevitable. But he couldn't force Yeonwoo to see his own worth, couldn't make him accept a love he didn't think he deserved.

"I understand if you need some time away... if you don't want to visit me again..."

"Take care of yourself," Taehoon said softly, standing up from the table. Their visiting time was over. His heart felt heavier than ever, but he had to walk away.

"I will," Yeonwoo murmured, watching Taehoon leave with a mix of sadness and quiet resignation. "Goodbye, Taehoon."

As Taehoon stepped out of the room, he blinked against the sudden brightness of the sun outside.

He had tried. He had put his heart on the line, and now, all he could do was hope that one day, Yeonwoo might finally see what Taehoon had always seen in him.

But until then, Taehoon would keep his promise. He would fight for Yeonwoo's freedom, for his future—even if that future didn't include him.

_______

The sky had been a brilliant shade of blue that day, a cruel contrast to the darkness that descended over Ji Yeonwoo's life. He still remembered every detail of the moment he learned his father was dead, struck down by a hitman with a baseball bat on a motorbike. His father, Ji Sangtae, was gone in an instant. No goodbyes, no final words. The man who had controlled every aspect of Yeonwoo's life was gone, leaving behind nothing but silence and unanswered questions.

And now Yeonwoo was alone, left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been shattered beyond repair.

At school, the rumors spread like wildfire. The model student, the karate freak—everyone had their theories, their whispers, about what had happened. But no one knew the truth. No one knew the weight that pressed down on Yeonwoo's chest every day, the suffocating grief that threatened to consume him.

He had no friends. The few acquaintances he had were quick to distance themselves, unwilling to be associated with the tragedy that had befallen his family. Even Choi Bomi, who had been kind to him in the past, could only do so much. She tried to help, but there were limits to her reach. Besides, Yoo Hobin, her boyfriend, had started to grow jealous, noticing how much time she spent with Yeonwoo, and it wasn't long before their interactions grew strained.

It was Seong Taehoon, though, who cut the deepest.

Yeonwoo stood outside the dojang one afternoon, his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the boy who had once been the rising taekwondo star. Taehoon was surrounded by friends in Yoo Hobin company, his lazy smile never faltering. He had it all—friendship, popularity, talent, a bright future. A family. Everything Yeonwoo didn't.

Taking a deep breath, Yeonwoo approached him, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in his gut.

"Seong Taehoon," Yeonwoo called, his voice quieter than he intended.

Taehoon turned to him, his smile fading slightly. "Ji Yeonwoo," he acknowledged, though there was no warmth in his tone.

"Sorry to bother you, but... I was wondering... if we could... maybe hang out sometime? I mean, I don't really have anyone right now and... I thought maybe we could be friends?"

Taehoon's expression was unreadable, his eyes scanning Yeonwoo as if weighing the request. For a moment, Yeonwoo dared to hope that he might agree, that maybe, just maybe, someone would be there for him in his darkest hour.

But then Taehoon shook his head. "No," he said simply. "I don't think so."

Yeonwoo blinked, the rejection hitting him like a punch to the gut. "Why not?"

Taehoon shrugged, looking uncomfortable now, as if he wanted the conversation to end. "You've got your own thing going on. I've got mine. It's just... better this way."

"Better this way?" Yeonwoo repeated, disbelief creeping into his voice. "My father's dead, I... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Taehoon looked away, his jaw tightening. "Do whatever you want," he muttered, turning his back on Yeonwoo and walking away without another word.

Yeonwoo stood frozen, his mind reeling from the cold dismissal. He had reached out, vulnerable and desperate, and Taehoon had brushed him aside like he was nothing.

A wave of anger surged through him. If even Taehoon wouldn't help him, then what was the point? What was the point of any of it?

_______

Recently, there were whispers that someone from Yoo Hobin company had been looking into his father's murder case, quietly gathering evidence. And it led him straight back to Seong Taehoon.

It turned out, that Baek Seongjoon had been behind it. Furious at his father for cutting off their business ties, he had retaliated in the most brutal way possible.

Yeonwoo couldn't believe it at first. Seong Taehoon, who had repeatedly turned him away, who had rejected his every attempt at friendship, was somehow involved. Why would he care? Why would Taehoon, of all people, bother trying to uncover the truth about his father's death?

Again, Yeonwoo made his way to the dojang. His feet carried him there almost on instinct, though he didn't know what he would say when he saw Taehoon. The memory of Taehoon's cold dismissal still stung, and part of him wanted to walk away, to forget everything. But he couldn't. Not now.

He found Taehoon inside, practicing his kicks with his usual precision and focus. Yeonwoo stood there for a moment, watching, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms as he approached.

"Seong Taehoon!" he called, his voice harsher than he intended.

Taehoon stopped mid-kick, turning to face him, his expression unreadable. "The fuck do you want?"

Yeonwoo took a step closer, his eyes locked on Taehoon's. "I know it was you," he said, his voice steady but filled with tension. "You've been investigating my father's murder."

Taehoon's expression didn't change, but Yeonwoo saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something guarded, cautious. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me!" Yeonwoo snapped, the anger bubbling up inside him. "Hobin told me, I know it was you! You found the culprit, didn't you? You uncovered the confession from the girlfriend of the hitman. You have the evidence."

Taehoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, so what?"

"And you didn't bother to tell me! Why do you care?"

"I don't. I wasn't doing it for you."

Yeonwoo's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

Taehoon crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm doing it for Hobin. He needs leverage against Seongjoon if he ever wants to get out from under his thumb. This isn't about you, Yeonwoo. Don't flatter yourself."

Yeonwoo barked a laugh. He had come here thinking—hoping—that maybe, just maybe, Taehoon had cared enough to help him. But now, hearing Taehoon say it so bluntly, all that hope shattered into pieces.

"So, that's it?" Yeonwoo asked, his voice shaking. "You're doing this for Hobin? Not because it's the right thing to do?"

Taehoon's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something—anger, maybe guilt. But he didn't try to defend himself. Instead, he turned his back on Yeonwoo, just like he had before.

"I care about Hobin. That's it."

Just as Taehoon was about to walk away, a voice called out from behind them.

"Taehoon! Is that your friend?" Seong Hansoo, Taehoon's father, stepped out from the dojang's storage room, wiping his hands with a towel as he approached the two boys. He gave Yeonwoo a brief nod before turning to his son with a smile. "I didn't know you were expecting company."

Taehoon stiffened, shooting a glance at Yeonwoo before quickly shaking his head. "He's not my friend, Dad," Taehoon said flatly. "We're not friends."

Hansoo raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "Oh, I see. Well, maybe someday, huh?" He chuckled lightly, clapping Taehoon on the shoulder before heading back into the dojang. "Don't be too hard on him, son. Not everyone's as good at taekwondo as you are."

Yeonwoo stood there, frozen in place, as Hansoo disappeared into the building.

"No way I would be friends with a kyokushin nerd," Taehoon muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Yeonwoo to hear.

The words cut deep, deeper than Yeonwoo had thought possible. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his chest tightening with a mix of anger, betrayal, and unbearable sadness. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his steps heavy as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

He didn't stop until he reached the edge of town. That's when he made the decision. What he wanted to do.

That was when Yeonwoo disappeared.

He found solace in the one thing that had always been there for him—kyokushin karate. He went to the mountains, isolating himself from the world, determined to train, to become stronger, to find some sense of purpose in the midst of his spiraling life. But without guidance, without support, his training quickly became self-destructive. He pushed his body to its limits and beyond, punishing himself for every perceived failure, for every rejection, for every moment he had spent trying to live up to his father's impossible expectations.

The days blurred together as he practiced relentlessly, his body growing weaker, his injuries piling up. His mind was consumed by grief and anger, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of pain and hopelessness. He didn't care if he died out there, didn't care if his body gave out under the strain. Part of him welcomed the idea.

By the time someone found him, he was barely conscious, his body broken and crippled from the abuse he had inflicted on it. He had pushed himself too far, and now, there was no going back.

That was when the darkness truly began to take hold.

The drugs came later, at first as a way to numb the pain, both physical and emotional. But soon, they became more than that. They became an escape, a way to forget, to drown out the memories that haunted him. The drugs offered him a reprieve from the crushing weight of his reality, and Yeonwoo, desperate for any relief, took them willingly.

He cut everyone out of his life—Bomi, Taehoon, everyone. He didn't need them. He didn't need anyone. All he needed was the numbness, the quiet oblivion that the drugs provided.

And so, Ji Yeonwoo disappeared from the world, spiraling deeper and deeper into a darkness from which he would not emerge for many years to come.

_______

In the dim light of the morning, Yeonwoo woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding in his chest. The nightmare had gripped him again, pulling him back into that dark time from years ago—his father's death, the loneliness that followed, and Taehoon's rejection. No matter how much time had passed, those memories still haunted him, lingering in the corners of his mind.

But as his breathing slowed, reality settled in. He wasn't that broken, abandoned boy anymore. Things were different now. Taehoon had changed—he was warm, kind, and persistent. They had become friends over the years since Yeonwoo's conviction and rehabilitation. Taehoon had supported him, visited him in prison, and helped him through the hardest moments.

Yet, despite all that, Yeonwoo still couldn't shake the fear that one day, it would all fall apart again. That eventually, Taehoon would leave, just as he had done back in high school. The thought of being abandoned again terrified him, so when Taehoon had confessed his feelings a few months ago, Yeonwoo had rejected him.

He told Taehoon it was better this way. That he wasn't worth the love or the trouble. His future was uncertain—he was a convict, a cripple, a former drug addict. Friendship was more than enough, he had said. He could live with that.

But Taehoon hadn't given up. In fact, since the confession, Taehoon had been more determined than ever. He'd gotten Yeonwoo's sentence reduced through his connections with the police, working tirelessly to bring Yeonwoo some hope of a better future. He visited often, never missing a chance to remind Yeonwoo of how much he cared.

Taehoon brought gifts—flowers, books, even cheesy poems that made Yeonwoo roll his eyes, though secretly they made him smile. He would show up with bento boxes full of Yeonwoo's favorite foods, insisting they share meals together. It was relentless, Taehoon's pursuit, and even though Yeonwoo tried to resist, the walls around his heart were slowly crumbling.

One day, Taehoon made a promise that had stirred something deep in Yeonwoo. He told Yeonwoo that once he was released, there would be a place for him at his father's dojang. Taehoon's father had agreed to help Yeonwoo relearn karate, to help him rehabilitate and reconnect with the art he had once loved. It was more than Yeonwoo could have ever hoped for, and it shook him to his core.

Now, as Yeonwoo lay in bed, the memories of Taehoon's persistence blended with the nightmare from his past. He had told himself he didn't deserve Taehoon's love, that their friendship was enough. But Taehoon was still there, still trying, still loving him despite everything. Yeonwoo's fear of abandonment felt weaker in the face of Taehoon's devotion.

_______

The day of Yeonwoo's release was bright, the sun filtering through the leaves of the trees as he walked out of the facility. Taehoon was waiting for him, dressed casually but with an air of excitement about him. He greeted Yeonwoo with a wide smile, immediately handing him a bouquet of fresh flowers, the scent filling the space between them.

"You didn't have to bring me flowers, you know," Yeonwoo said, feeling awkward but touched.

"Of course I did. I'm trying to win you over, remember?" Taehoon's eyes twinkled, his playful tone making Yeonwoo's heart skip a beat.

Yeonwoo shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," Taehoon grinned.

They walked together, heading toward the car, but Taehoon stopped just before they reached it. He turned to Yeonwoo, the playful light in his eyes giving way to something more serious, more vulnerable.

"Yeonwoo, I know you said no before. But I have to ask again. I've been patient, and I'll keep being patient, but... will you be my boyfriend? For real, this time?"

Yeonwoo's heart hammered in his chest. He had rejected Taehoon once because he didn't believe he deserved the love Taehoon was offering. But standing here, looking into Taehoon's eyes, seeing the hope and affection there, Yeonwoo felt his resistance waver.

"Taehoon..." Yeonwoo began, his voice low, unsure. "Are you really sure about this? I'm still... broken."

Taehoon stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "You're not broken. You're just... healing. And I want to be there with you, through all of it. You're not a burden to me, Yeonwoo. I've loved you for a long time, even if I didn't know it back then. But I know it now. And I'm not giving up on you. Not ever."

Yeonwoo swallowed, his throat tight with emotion. He had spent so long convincing himself that he didn't deserve happiness, that love wasn't something meant for him. But Taehoon... Taehoon had never stopped trying, never stopped believing in him.

For the first time in years, Yeonwoo allowed himself to believe, just a little, that maybe he could have a future. A real future, with someone who cared for him.

With a shaky breath, Yeonwoo nodded. "Okay. I'll... I'll be your boyfriend."

Taehoon's face broke into the biggest smile Yeonwoo had ever seen, and before he could say anything more, Taehoon wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Yeonwoo let himself sink into it, feeling the warmth and safety in Taehoon's arms, a feeling he hadn't known he could still have.

"I promise you, Yeonwoo," Taehoon whispered into his ear. "I'm going to take care of you. We're okay now, and we're going to be okay."

Yeonwoo closed his eyes, his heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. Maybe, just maybe, he could believe in that too.