The quiet was suffocating, pressing in on Ji-hoon from every side. He sat in the darkened room, his fingers curled tightly into fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. The world around him felt distant, like he was submerged in water, unable to break the surface and take a breath. Every thought, every memory, seemed to drown him in its weight, dragging him deeper into a place where he wasn't sure who he was anymore. The past, which he had tried so hard to escape, clung to him like a shadow, refusing to let go.
It had been days since the confrontation with Si-wan, days since the damning truth had been exposed, and yet it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of lies, of manipulation, of pain. His mother, the woman who had once been his hero, had been caught in a web of deceit, a pawn in a game he had never even known existed. And now, with her gone, all he was left with were the fragments of her choices, the echoes of the life she had lived, and the lingering questions that refused to be answered.
He couldn't escape the feeling that the past had never truly left. It was still there, lurking in the corners of his mind, haunting him with every breath. He had always thought of his mother's death as a tragedy, a random act of fate that had torn his world apart. But now, after everything he had learned, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. His mother's death hadn't been random. It had been inevitable. The choices she had made, the life she had led, had led to this moment. And now, Ji-hoon was left to pick up the pieces of a broken life, a life that had been shaped by forces beyond his control.
He stood up, his legs unsteady beneath him. The room spun for a moment, but he forced himself to steady himself against the wall. His head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes. The weight of everything was crushing him, threatening to break him in ways he hadn't thought possible. He had never wanted to know the truth. He had never wanted to uncover the darkness that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface of his existence. But now that he knew, there was no turning back. He couldn't unsee what he had learned, couldn't forget the face of the man who had killed his mother, couldn't erase the image of her lying cold and lifeless, sacrificed for him, for his safety.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there was something even worse than the betrayal, something that gnawed at him from the inside. The fact that he had never known. For so long, he had been living in a world of half-truths, of carefully constructed illusions that had shielded him from the painful reality of his mother's life. And now, he was left to face the truth, a truth that had been there all along, waiting to be uncovered.
The guilt was unbearable.
He stumbled to the window, his hand gripping the sill as he looked out at the darkened city below. The lights flickered like distant stars, each one a reminder of the life he had once known, the life he had lost. The world outside felt distant, disconnected from him, as if he were no longer a part of it. He was stuck in this in-between place, caught between the past and the present, unable to move forward.
"Why did she do it?" Ji-hoon whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he were speaking to the shadows. "Why did she sacrifice everything for me? Why didn't she just tell me? Why didn't she warn me?"
His hands trembled as he pressed them against his face, as if trying to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill. But they wouldn't come. He had cried enough for a lifetime. There was no more room for tears, no more room for grief. He had buried it all so deep inside him that it had become a part of who he was, a part of his soul. And now, all that was left was the hollow ache, the gaping hole that no amount of mourning could fill.
The sound of a knock at the door broke through the silence, and Ji-hoon froze. He didn't want to face anyone, didn't want to speak to anyone. Not now, not in this state. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.
"Ji-hoon," came a voice from the other side. It was Joon-won's voice, soft yet firm, full of concern. "You need to talk to me. Please. It's important."
Ji-hoon hesitated, his mind racing. He knew he couldn't stay in this room forever, couldn't continue to wallow in his own despair. But the thought of facing the outside world, of confronting the truth he had learned, made his stomach turn. He had already lost so much, and now he was being forced to face the one thing he had been trying to avoid—the past.
With a deep sigh, Ji-hoon pushed himself away from the window and walked slowly to the door. His body felt heavy, like he was carrying the weight of the world with every step. When he opened the door, Joon-won was standing there, his face etched with concern, his eyes dark with worry. He looked at Ji-hoon, taking in his disheveled appearance, the hollow look in his eyes, and sighed.
"Come on," Joon-won said quietly, his voice soft but insistent. "We need to talk."
Ji-hoon nodded, stepping aside to let his friend in. As Joon-won entered the room, Ji-hoon closed the door behind him, the sound of it shutting echoing through the silence like a final nail in the coffin of the life he had known.
Joon-won didn't waste any time. "I know it's hard, Ji-hoon," he began, his voice gentle. "But we can't keep running from this. We can't keep hiding from the truth. Your mother—she wasn't just trying to protect you. She was trying to protect everyone. There's so much more to this than you realize."
Ji-hoon didn't respond at first. He just stood there, his mind spinning, the weight of Joon-won's words sinking in. He wanted to push them away, to deny them, to ignore the reality that was staring him in the face. But deep down, he knew that he couldn't. The past never left. It had been there all along, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment when he would finally see it for what it was.
"She made her choices, Ji-hoon," Joon-won continued, his voice quieter now, as if he were speaking directly to Ji-hoon's soul. "And those choices had consequences. But you're not the one who has to bear the weight of them alone. You have people who care about you, who want to help you through this. You don't have to carry it all by yourself."
Ji-hoon closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain that seemed to tighten around his chest. He could feel his heart racing, the panic rising again. The truth was too much, too overwhelming. How was he supposed to handle all of this? How could he possibly move forward when everything he had known was built on a lie?
But Joon-won was right. He wasn't alone. And as much as it hurt, as much as the truth seemed to shatter everything he had believed in, he had to face it. The past never left, but maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to live with it, to make peace with it, even if it meant tearing apart everything he had once known.
And so, with a deep breath, Ji-hoon nodded. The road ahead would be long, but for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something deep within him. Hope.
The air was thick with tension as Ji-hoon stood in the center of the abandoned building, the stale scent of dust and decay wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. His hands were clenched into fists, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist around him, as if the very walls were alive, watching him, waiting for him to make his move.
Joon-won stood beside him, his expression grim but determined. The man who had once been Ji-hoon's steadfast ally, always there to offer support, was now a fellow soldier in a war neither of them had ever wanted to fight. The past had come crashing into their lives with a violence that neither of them could have predicted, and now, it was time to face the truth head-on.
"They're here," Joon-won muttered, his voice low but clear. "The people who were involved in your mother's death. They're in this building."
Ji-hoon's heart raced, but he forced himself to remain calm. He had trained for this moment. He had prepared himself for the battle that was about to unfold. His body, though weakened from days of emotional turmoil, had been hardened by the physical training he had undergone, and now it was time to put it all to use.
A door creaked open down the hallway, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the building, growing louder with each passing second. Ji-hoon's senses sharpened, the world around him narrowing until all he could focus on was the approaching threat. His mind raced as he recalled every detail he had gathered, every face, every name that had come up during the investigation. These were the people who had helped orchestrate his mother's death, who had pulled the strings that had led to her tragic end. And now, they would pay.
Without a word, Ji-hoon moved, his body a blur of motion as he darted down the hallway, his footsteps soundless on the cracked tiles. Joon-won followed closely behind, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow, alert for any sign of danger. They didn't need to speak to understand each other. Their years of friendship and trust had forged an unspoken bond, one that could withstand anything.
The first figure emerged from the shadows, a tall man with a cold, calculating expression. Ji-hoon's pulse quickened, but he didn't hesitate. With a swift, fluid motion, he lunged forward, his body moving with the precision of a predator. His fist connected with the man's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground with a sickening thud. The man groaned in pain but didn't have time to recover before Ji-hoon was on him again, his knees driving into the man's chest, pinning him to the floor.
"Who sent you?" Ji-hoon demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The man's eyes widened in fear, but he refused to speak. Ji-hoon wasn't about to waste time. He lifted his hand, ready to strike again, when a voice from behind stopped him.
"Enough."
Si-wan stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his posture casual despite the tension in the room. He had been the one pulling the strings all along, the mastermind behind the plot that had destroyed Ji-hoon's life. Ji-hoon's breath caught in his throat as he saw him—the man who had taken so much from him, the man who had orchestrated the death of his mother.
"You think you can just come in here and start killing everyone?" Si-wan continued, his voice cold, yet tinged with amusement. "You really believe that violence will get you the answers you seek?"
Ji-hoon stood, his gaze never leaving Si-wan. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to explode, but he held it in check. He had come too far to let his emotions get the best of him now. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was about justice. This was about finally taking control of the life that had been ripped away from him.
"I don't need answers from you," Ji-hoon replied, his voice steady. "I know what you did. I know everything."
Si-wan's lips curled into a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Do you really? You think you understand the full extent of the situation, Ji-hoon? You think you know everything there is to know about your mother and me?"
Ji-hoon's fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms as the weight of Si-wan's words hit him like a slap. He had suspected it, felt it in the pit of his stomach, but hearing Si-wan admit it so bluntly made everything feel real. The man who had killed his mother wasn't some faceless enemy, some nameless villain. It was someone Ji-hoon had trusted, someone he had once believed cared for him.
The silence between them stretched thin, each second hanging heavy in the air like a drawn-out breath, waiting to be released. Then, without warning, Ji-hoon charged.
Si-wan barely had time to react as Ji-hoon's body slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. The two men grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand, their movements fast and brutal. Ji-hoon's vision blurred with rage, but he focused, blocking out everything except for the feeling of Si-wan beneath him, the man who had stolen everything from him.
"You think you can just erase the past?" Ji-hoon spat, his voice tight with fury. "You think you can erase the pain you caused me, the pain you caused her?"
Si-wan's lips twisted into a sneer. "I don't need to erase anything. The past is gone, Ji-hoon. It's over."
"Not for me," Ji-hoon growled, his hands tightening around Si-wan's throat. He could feel the man struggling beneath him, but Ji-hoon didn't let up. He had waited too long for this moment, had suffered too much to let it slip away now.
"Enough!" A voice from behind shouted.
Joon-won appeared at Ji-hoon's side, his face set in a grim expression. "Ji-hoon, we need him alive. We need to make him talk. Killing him now won't get us the answers we need."
Ji-hoon hesitated, his fingers twitching at Si-wan's throat. The urge to kill him, to end everything, was overwhelming, but Joon-won was right. They couldn't afford to let anger cloud their judgment. Not now.
With a final, furious glance at Si-wan, Ji-hoon released his grip and stood. "You're lucky," he muttered, turning away. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."
Si-wan didn't say anything. He just lay there, gasping for air, a look of contempt on his face. The fight wasn't over, not yet. Ji-hoon knew that. This was just the beginning.