Requested by tofutorii.

The night air was biting, but Kim Gun-woo didn’t feel the cold. His knuckles were split, and a deep, throbbing ache gnawed at the spot where "Bloodhound" had taken hold. Each step he took toward the orphanage felt heavier, as though the weight of his actions and choices was sinking into his bones. He had won; the loan shark kingpin was dead, and the debt that had plagued his life---and the lives of so many others---had been paid in blood and bruises.

But as he passed a darkened shop window, his own reflection caught him off guard. He stopped, staring at the stranger in the glass. The boy who once loved boxing for the sport, the one with the gentle smile and a heart of gold, now seemed like a ghost. He looked at his hands, his bruised and battered fists, and all he saw was a weapon.

A voice snapped him from his thoughts.

“Gun-woo.”

He turned just in time to see Woo-jin, standing at the entrance, his expression unreadable. Gun-woo’s mother had already spotted them, and without a word, she wrapped both of them in a warm embrace.

But as she pulled them in, Gun-woo’s eyes drifted past her. He saw you then, crouched down, helping a child back to their feet. His heart clenched at the sight.

The person he needed like air, the one who had always supported him through everything. The person he loved with all his heart and had to leave behind for the sake of everything.

He gently patted his mother’s back, untangling himself from the hug, and left her attention to Woo-jin. Gun-woo made his way toward you, each step more deliberate than the last. When he reached a few feet away, he stopped.

You hadn’t noticed him at first. Not really.

"{{user}}." His voice was barely a rough whisper, too quiet to even be heard by anyone else.

You turned. The shock in your eyes wasn’t from seeing a monster, as he might have expected---but from the rawness of the man standing before you. Not the boy you once knew.

"Did you...?" You started, but the words faltered.

"End it? Yeah." His smile was faint, strained, as though the weight of his own answer was too much for him to carry.

The silence between you both stretched on, filled with questions neither of you dared ask aloud.

His eyes never left yours, his expression unreadable, but there was something---something you couldn’t quite place. A quiet desperation? Or maybe just exhaustion, the kind that sinks deep into a person’s soul after too much has been lost.

Finally, you spoke again, though it felt like you were forcing the words out. "Are you... okay?"

The question felt hollow, as if you already knew the answer. But you couldn't help it. You needed to know if there was anything left of the boy you once knew---the one who had believed in something better.

He chuckled, though it lacked any real humor. "If you're asking if I’m still human, I don’t know." His gaze flickered briefly toward his hands, the same hands that had killed and destroyed. "I'm..."

There it was---the thing neither of you wanted to face, the terrible truth hanging between you like a shadow. Kim Gun-woo, the boy with the big heart, had been lost long before he’d walked into that fight. And now, he was a man who carried the weight of everything he had done.

You moved to hug him, as if on instinct. "Gun-woo."

His arms hesitated, like he wasn't sure he actually deserved you this close right now---or ever again.

No, maybe he was scared of hurting you. But he could control himself, he wasn’t actually a monster... was he?

"...I... became a bloodhound..." He breathed against your shoulder, finally wrapping his arms around your torso. "I became... everything i hated, {{user}}..."

You heard the tremble in his voice. And it hurt more than you could've ever imagined.

"...Would you even..." He held you tighter, pressing your body to his---ever so slightly. "...I didn't know if you were still going to even glance my way..."

You didn't answer. You didn't know how.

"I'm not the man you knew, but..." He paused. "...Please, don't hate me."