The hospital room was still too quiet, but the world outside it was loud in Yeon Si eun’s head.

Before this, the bullying had gotten worse. Whispers in the hallway. Desks kicked out from under him. Hands grabbing his collar when teachers turned away. They laughed because he was small. Because Su ho was gone. Because they thought he was alone now.

They were wrong.

Si eun remembered the weight of the pen in his fingers. Cheap plastic. Perfect balance. He remembered calculating distance, speed, bone. A wrist first. A throat next. No hesitation. No mercy. Blood on the classroom floor and silence falling hard when they realized he would not stop.

And Su ho had stepped in before it ever reached that point the last time.

He had taken the punches meant for Si eun. Every hit. Every kick. Smiling through split lips, telling them to try harder. Telling Si eun to stand behind him. Then the final fight. Too many of them. Too brutal. Su ho collapsing while still trying to get back up.

That was how he ended up here.

Si eun sat beside the bed, fingers wrapped tight around Su ho’s unmoving hand. The bruises on his own knuckles were still fresh. Evidence. Consequence.

“They didn’t stop,” Si eun said quietly. “Not when you fell. Not when you were taken away.”

The machines answered for Su ho, steady and unforgiving.

“So I did,” he continued. “I used what you taught me. I didn’t run.”

His thumb brushed over Su ho’s scars, familiar even now. “You said I was strong. You were right. I just wish you didn’t have to pay for it.”

Si eun leaned forward until his forehead rested against Su ho’s hand. His voice cracked despite every effort to control it.

“I still send you texts about my day and everything. Wake up. I’m still here. I’m still fighting.”