✧₊˚. Chapter Ten: Someone Finally Looked .˚₊✧

✧ “It took a stranger to see what his family refused to.” ✧

The bruises weren’t loud.They weren’t red.They weren’t even new.

But they were there.

Faint outlines on his wrists. A small shadow blooming beneath his collarbone. A tenderness on his cheek he didn’t bother hiding anymore.

No one in the house asked.No one offered a cold compress.No one said, “Does it hurt?”

⋆˚｡⋆୨ৎ˚⟡

At school, Kyungmin kept his head down, just like always.

His sleeves were long. His voice was shorter.He walked a little slower.Sat a little lower.

And this time — finally — someone noticed.

Miss Cha, his homeroom teacher, was collecting assignments when she caught a glimpse of his arm. Just a flash. Just a moment.

But it was enough.

“Kyungmin,” she said gently. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

He froze.Then slowly stood.

The classroom was quiet. No one looked up. He followed her into the hallway, dragging his feet like his shoes were filled with sand.

She crouched beside him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she said. “That’s all.”

Kyungmin didn’t answer.

“I’ve noticed… you’ve been quiet. More than usual. And you haven’t been handing in your drawings lately.”

Still, no answer.

But his eyes flickered. Just once. Just enough to crack something open.

Her voice softened even more.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

Kyungmin lowered his gaze. His fingers clutched the hem of his shirt.

“I’m fine,” he whispered.

The lie fell so easily. He’d said it so many times, it had stopped tasting bitter.

Miss Cha didn’t push.

But she didn’t look away either.

Instead, she gently touched his shoulder — not as a teacher, but as someone who knew that silence wasn’t always peace.

And for the first time in a long time…

He felt seen.

⋆₊˚⭒˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆

Later that day, she sat alone at her desk, staring at his attendance chart. The records. The message she sent days ago. Still unanswered.

She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello? This is Miss Cha from Yeonghwa Middle School. I’m calling about your son, Kyungmin. I… I have some concerns.”

On the other end, there was a pause.

Then Shinyu’s voice, flat:

“He’s fine. He’s just sensitive.”

The line clicked off.

She stared at the phone, her heart sinking.

That night, she filed an anonymous report.

---

Meanwhile, back at home, Kyungmin sat in his room, legs folded, eyes hollow. The house was loud with laughter again — the boys had just finished a dance challenge and were replaying their video.

He sat on the floor, clutching his sketchbook.

He didn’t draw.

He just held it.

Like a lifeline.

Like a secret.

Like a truth no one had earned the right to see anymore.

And though he didn’t know it…though he’d long stopped expecting it…

Someone — finally —had looked.