Work Text:
Just hold on.
It’s hard.
I know.
But you can do it.
You have to.
Lockers slammed. Students laughed and talked. Too loud. Way too loud. Teachers called out reminders about assignments.
just a typical day. Right?
not for hayeon. For her, it all sounded distant.
Like she’s underwater.
She sat at her desk, right next to the window.
The leaves were already starting to fall. Of course they did.
she was staring at the sheet of paper in front of her, the words blurring together. Her chest felt tight and her hands were trembling underneath the desk.
the tears in her eyes were like waves. Coming and going, threatening to leave. But they never reach the shore. They can’t.
„Hayeon?“
she blinked. Did she miss something?
Kim Chaewon was standing next to her desk, concern hidden by a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
„the bell rang 5 minutes ago.“
„oh“
Hayeon snapped out of whatever state she was in, pushing the waves back and further away from the shore, and hurriedly gathered her books.
Chaewon was watching her. Carefully. Not too obvious. Eyes full of worry and unsaid words.
She’d been doing that a lot lately.
Ever since Hayeon started to skip meals.
ever since she stopped answering for hours.
ever since her smile wasn’t as genuine as before. Not as playful and teasing.
Chaewon noticed. She always did. But what could she do?
They walk out of the classroom together, Chaewons hand resting on Hayeons back as silent support as they passed by the other students.
No one knew about them. Their secret. Their silent connection.
not the teachers
not the students
no one.
only two other people knew.
Hyerin and Soomin.
Only they would know. They were always together. Always seen as four.
As they reached the stairwell, away from the noise and the crowd, Chaewon gently tugged on Hayeons sleeve.
„You didn’t sleep again, hm?“
Hayeon looked away. Avoiding her eyes.
She stayed silent.
she knew she couldn’t lie. Chaewon would know either way.
the silence was thick and said more than words could ever express. If there even were words.
that was answer enough.
Chaewons expression softened, her heart tugging.
„Hayeon…“
“I’m fine.“
the words came automatically. Like out of a gun.
A lie she had been saying so many times she almost started to believe it herself.
Chaewon squeezed her hand briefly before letting go.
„You don’t have to keep saying that to me.“
That was it. What Hayeon feared the most.
She knew. She always knew. And hayeon knew that she knew.
But she hated being weak. Especially infront of Chaewon.
Something painful hit Hayeon. No idea what it is. Can’t even compare it to something. Maybe the heart being squeezed together so hard it started to cry too?
Without a word she walked away, before Chaewon could say anything else.
Days passed in a blur. Exams happening, late night study sessions that ended with them hugging and holding onto each others as if they’d disappear if they didn’t.
Hyerin and Soomin visited a lot. Stayed with them. Played. Laughed. Talked.
No one left.
of course they wouldn’t.
Hayeon knew that.
But it still felt terrible to know that they won’t leave.
It feels like she’s burdening them more and more.
Why can’t she be a human like them?
After a long, tough math period, hayeon felt it.
The waves weren’t just small waves anymore. They were huge. Massive.
like a storm. And they don’t hold back.
Hayeon sat in the stairwell on the one side where no one went to. Constructions and dirt. No one would want to go there.
it was silent.
Well, not really. The distant chatter was still audible. The occasional slam of a locker somewhere beyond the walls, the faint buzz of fluorescent lights overhead.
But inside the narrow concrete space, everything felt strangely still.
Like the world had paused.
Hayeon sat on the steps, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Chaewon remained a few steps below.
Giving her space.
Waiting.
The silence stretched between them.
Then-
„I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
The words emerged so quietly Chaewon almost missed them.
Hayeon kept staring at the floor.
„If I have good grades, I still feel empty.”
Her fingers tightened around her sleeves.
„If my friends make me laugh, I still go home and cry.”
Her voice cracked.
„If I’m with you…”
A tear slid down Hayeons cheek, finally free.
“…I still feel scared.”
Chaewon’s heart clenched.
Because she knew how much it must have hurt for Hayeon to admit that.
Tears filled Hayeon’s eyes like waves, never quite reaching the shore but threatening to leave all the same.
„I don’t understand, why I can’t just be happy.”
The sentence shattered in the middle.
And suddenly she was crying.
Not the quiet tears she’d learned to hide.
Not the ones she wiped away before anyone could see.
These were the ugly tears.
The desperate tears.
The tears of someone who had been carrying a storm inside their chest for far too long.
Chaewon moved without thinking.
She climbed the stairs and sat beside her.
Close enough for their shoulders to touch.
Close enough for Hayeon to know she wasn’t alone.
But she didn’t speak.
Not immediately.
Sometimes words felt too small for pain like this.
Instead, she simply rested her hand over Hayeon’s trembling one.
„I’m tired,” Hayeon whispered.
The confession sounded ancient.
As if she’d been carrying it for years.
„I’m so tired.”
Chaewon squeezed her hand.
„I know.”
„No, you don’t.”
The words came sharper than intended.
Hayeon immediately looked horrified.
„I’m sorry.”
„You don’t have to apologize.”
„I do.”
„No.”
Chaewon’s voice remained gentle.
„No, Hayeon. You don’t.”
The tears came harder.
Because when someone is hurting, kindness often hurts more than anger.
Anger can be fought.
Kindness slips through every crack.
They sat there for a while longer. Just quiet. Hayeon knew Chaewon was there and that’s all she needed.
The next week was worse.
Hayeon stopped answering messages.
Stopped eating lunch.
Stopped looking people in the eye.
The darkness seemed to cling to her like shadows at sunset.
Always there.
Always waiting.
One rainy afternoon, Chaewon found her sitting alone in an empty classroom.
The sky outside was gray.
Raindrops slid down the windows like tears on glass.
Hayeon was staring outside.
Motionless.
As if she’d forgotten how to move.
Chaewon quietly entered.
She placed a warm canned drink on the desk.
Hayeon glanced at it.
Then at her.
Then back at the rain.
„You didn’t have to do that..”
„I wanted to.”
Silence. Thick silence. You could hear the heartbeat of both if you wanted to.
The rain continued.
Soft.
Steady.
Endless.
After several minutes, Hayeon finally spoke.
„Do you ever wish you could disappear?”
The question stole the air from the room.
Chaewon’s stomach dropped.
But she kept her expression calm. It was hard. God, so damn hard. But she tried to.
„What do you mean?”
Hayeon laughed.
It was a terrible sound.
A laugh made entirely of sadness. Was it even a laugh? No clue.
„Not die.”
She swallowed.
„Just disappear for a while.”
Her eyes remained fixed on the rain.
„Stop being a problem.”
Chaewons vision blurred.
Because she finally understood. She did before, just not to that extend. Or maybe she didn’t want to believe that she was right.
Hayeon genuinely believed she was a burden.
The girl she loved carried every bad day like evidence.
Every mistake like proof.
Every struggle like a personal failure.
Chaewon pulled her chair closer.
Then closer still.
Until their knees nearly touched.
„Hayeon.”
For the first time, Hayeon looked directly at her.
„You are not a problem.”
Immediately, tears appeared.
As though the sentence had struck something fragile.
„You don’t get to decide that.”
Chaewon’s voice shook.
„Because if you’re a burden, then what am I supposed to do with all the moments I love you?”
Hayeon’s breath caught.
„What?”
„I love your laugh.”
A tear slipped down Hayeon’s face.
„I love when you get excited and start talking faster than usual.”
Another tear.
„I love how you always tease us. Playing the role of Haseok.”
The tears continued.
„I love how hard you try.”
Chaewon’s own eyes were wet now.
„And I love you. And this is something that will never change. No matter what. I don’t care what happens. I don’t care what you think of yourself. I love you”
The room fell silent.
The rain softened outside.
Neither moved.
Neither breathed.
Then Hayeon broke.
Completely.
She leaned forward and buried her face in Chaewon’s shoulder.
The sob that escaped her sounded painful.
Raw.
Like something finally tearing open after being trapped for too long.
Chaewon wrapped both arms around her.
Holding her tightly.
As though she could somehow keep all the shattered pieces together.
And for the first time in a damn long time Hayeon let herself be held.
Things did not magically improve.
Healing never arrives like sunlight bursting through clouds.
It’s quieter than that.
More stubborn.
More ordinary.
It arrives in small things.
Answering a message.
Eating breakfast.
Getting out of bed.
Asking for help.
Accepting it.
Some days Hayeon still cried.
Some days anxiety still wrapped around her ribs until breathing felt impossible.
But she no longer faced those moments alone.
Chaewon stayed.
Hyerin stayed.
Soomin stayed.
Again and again.
No matter how many times Hayeon insisted she wasn’t worth the trouble.
they stayed. Just like they said they would.
That would never change.
Spring arrived slowly.
Cherry blossoms appeared around the school grounds.
The air grew warmer.
The world felt softer.
One afternoon, the four friends sat beneath a blooming tree after classes ended.
Petals drifted through the sunlight.
The sky stretched endlessly above them.
For once, nobody was talking.
They simply existed together.
And somehow, that was enough.
Hayeon looked around.
At Hyerin’s laughter. The genuine one. The one that she let out whenever the group was stupid and she didn’t feel tired.
At Soomin trying to catch falling petals.
At Chaewon sitting beside her.
And something unfamiliar settled inside her chest.
Not happiness.
Not exactly.
Something gentler.
Something quieter.
Hope.
The realization made tears gather in her eyes.
But these tears felt different.
Like winter melting.
Like frozen rivers beginning to move again.
Chaewon noticed immediately. Of course she did. Why wouldn’t she?
„You okay?” Chaewon whispered. It was so soft. Like a lullaby. Like the hugs shared kn private spaces.
Hayeon nodded.
This time she meant it.
The breeze carried blossoms through the air.
The petals danced around them like tiny fragments of light.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Hayeon didn’t feel trapped beneath the weight of tomorrow.
The future no longer looked like an endless tunnel.
It looked like a path.
A winding one.
A difficult one.
But a path nonetheless.
She reached for Chaewon’s hand.
Their fingers intertwined.
Warm.
Certain.
Real.
The sun dipped lower across the horizon, painting the sky gold and rose.
And as laughter echoed beneath the cherry blossoms, Hayeon realized something important.
The darkness had not disappeared.
It might never disappear completely.
But it no longer filled the entire sky.
There were stars now.
There was sunlight.
There were people who loved her enough to sit beside her through every storm.
And sometimes, that was what healing looked like.
Not becoming someone new.
Simply learning that you deserved to stay.
The wind carried another shower of blossoms across the evening sky.
This time, Hayeon smiled.
And this time, the smile reached her eyes.