❀⋆˚｡ Chapter Thirteen: A New Pain ｡˚⋆❀

✧ “He’d gotten used to hurting. But not like this.” ✧

The wind was cruel tonight.

It scratched at his face, tugged at his sleeves, crept into the holes in his shoes. The sky was gray, like it didn’t know if it wanted to rain — or just watch.

Kyungmin walked.

Not because he had somewhere to go.Because there was nowhere left.

⋆˚｡⋆

He had been walking for hours. His legs ached. His stomach had stopped growling — a scary kind of quiet. The kind that meant it had given up.

He passed a small shop where warm light glowed behind glass. Inside, a boy his age sat at a table with his parents, sharing tteokbokki. Laughing.

Kyungmin didn’t stare.

He just looked once.

Then kept walking.

⋆₊˚⭒˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆

He tried to sit down near the back of a closed bus stop. His fingers gripped the metal railing to balance himself.

But his legs gave out too fast.His body crumpled too quickly.And his head hit the ground.

Hard.

He gasped — not in pain, but in shock.

His breath caught in his throat. His vision went white for a second.Then pulsed red.

He couldn’t move.

His shoulder throbbed. His ankle burned.

His palms were scraped, but it was the inside of his chest that hurt the most —like something was cracking open.Something that had been holding him together.

He tried to sit up again.Failed.

Tears stung his eyes — not just from the fall,but from the awful, crushing truth:

“I don’t have anywhere to go…”

“I don’t have anyone to call.”

“I don’t think anyone would even look for me.”

And then—

It started to rain.

Cold, small drops that kissed his skin like needles.Not a storm. Just drizzle.The kind of rain that doesn’t clean anything.

Just makes the world feel heavier.

⋆˙⟡⭑⋆˖ ࣪

Kyungmin lay there, curled into himself on the cold concrete, body shaking, rain soaking into his clothes.

For once…He didn’t imagine someone finding him.

No fantasy of Shinyu changing.No picture of his brothers running toward him, shouting his name.

He stopped hoping.

Even pain was too familiar now.

But this—This new pain?

It was the kind that whispered:

“You’ve reached your limit."

"You can’t keep going.”

And slowly…

his eyes closed.

Not because he wanted to sleep.

But because staying awake was too heavy.