THE BEGINNING OF MY ENDING
THE DAY I DIED
Inside the grand mansion, everything gleamed with gold.
Laughter echoed through the royal halls, bouncing off glass chandeliers and silk-covered walls. Tables overflowed with wine, sweets, and blood-earned trophies. Every inch of the room screamed celebration — not of love, not of life… but of victory soaked in betrayal.
They were celebrating the fall of two great kings. Toasting their deaths with fake smiles and diamond cups. Drunk on their success, they danced like devils in velvet robes, their mouths twisting into cruel grins as they mocked the very souls they murdered.
Not a single person inside that mansion felt guilt. Only glory.
But outside… a storm waited.
At the edge of the road, beneath the cold night sky, sat a boy on a black bike. He didn’t flinch. His leather gloves gripped the handle like they were holding back a beast.
JEON FORT.
His eyes — bloodshot, unblinking — stared at the mansion as if he could burn it down with his gaze alone.
He began to count.✨
JEON FORT
THREE… FOUR… FIVE…
The hatred in his eyes grew darker
Thunderous blast ripped through the night.
The mansion erupted in flames. The laughter turned to screams. Chandeliers shattered. The wine ran like blood. The very foundation that held their pride crumbled into ash.
And still… Fort didn’t blink.
He watched them suffer. Watched them run. Watched them beg. And a smile — soft, cold, and broken — curved on his lips.
Not because he enjoyed it.
But because they finally tasted what they once served him.
He tied a small black ribbon to his bike handle — a memory, a promise — and revved the engine. He didn’t care about the fire behind him. He didn’t care about the dying cries.
Because the ones he truly wanted to kill… were already gone.
✨✨He rode fast.
The rain chased him.
The wind screamed louder than his thoughts.
But nothing silenced the war inside his chest.
His bike came to a stop in front of a cemetery — quiet, soaked in silver moonlight. It felt colder here. Not because of the rain, but because this is where warmth came to die.
He stepped off the bike with heavy feet. Not because he was tired — but because regret weighed more than any chain.
Grave after grave… he walked past them.
His father.
His elder brother.
His cousins.
His people.
They all once stood behind him. Now, they rested under the soil — betrayed by the one person who was supposed to protect them.✨✨✨
Him.
But his feet froze in front of one grave.
The grave of a boy who never raised a sword.
Who never asked for power.
Who only… loved him.
The grave of a boy, the younger prince — his brother’s heart, and once, his own.
Fort fell to his knees. The rain soaked his hair, his clothes, his soul.
No one could see the tear that rolled down his cheek.
Not because it was hidden…
But because it was the first in a long, long time.
He touched the wet stone. Traced the carved letters. And whispered like a ghost:
JEON FORT
I’M SORRY… FOR BEING BLIND.
I’M SORRY… FOR BELIEVING LIES.
I’M SORRY… FOR LETTING YOU DIE
His voice cracked. His shoulders shook.
He didn’t scream. He couldn’t.
Grief like this doesn't scream. It suffocates.
He took a photo from his pocket — a picture of a boy smiling in a sunlight that no longer existed.
Then, with hands that had already killed too much… he pulled out a gun.
He didn’t tremble.
Because death wasn’t scary anymore.
Not after losing everyone who made life worth living.
He placed the photo on the grave.
Placed the gun to his temple.
And whispered,
JEON FORT
If there’s a next time…
I want to love you .
I want to protect you… not destroy you.
A single gunshot echoed through the rain.
And the boy who once lived for revenge —
died beside the one he loved.
WALK INTO THE PAST
No scream.
No fire.
No grave.
Just a white ceiling above him.
A steady beep echoed in the background. A wire ran across his cheek. Cold air filled his lungs.
Jeon Fort opened his eyes.
And for a moment… he didn’t move.
There was no soil under his hands. No blood on his palms. No rain in his hair.
Just silence.
He touched his forehead — the place where a bullet had ended his story.
But there was nothing.
No wound.
Only the dull ache of memory… and a second chance he didn’t ask for.
His breath turned shallow.
JEON FORT
[Why… why am I still alive?]
He looked around, dazed, confused, half-terrified.
JEON FORT
[Who brought me back to this cursed life?]
He gritted his teeth. His hands clenched the hospital blanket. His heart beat fast — not from fear, but from the weight of regret returning like thunder.
And then—
SLAM.
The hospital door flew open with force, like a storm had broken through it.
A man walked in, dressed in full black. His eyes red, jaw tight, fury bleeding from every step he took.
Fort looked up — and the world spun.
JEON FORT
[No. No.
It wasn’t real.
Couldn’t be]
The man standing there… was Jeon Justin.
His brother.
The underworld mafia king.
The man Fort himself had buried — with his own shaking hands.
But now…
Justin was standing at the foot of his bed.
Alive. Fuming. And full of rage.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING, FORT?!
His voice sliced the room open.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
I LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR ONE DAMN MONTH AND YOU’RE ALREADY TRYING TO THROW YOURSELF INTO A COFFIN?
Fort couldn't speak. He couldn't even breathe.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
YOU THINK DYING LIKE THIS MAKES YOU STRONGER?
CRASHING INTO A STREET POLE LIKE SOME ROOKIE RACER?!
HUH? ARE YOU EAGER TO DIE NOW?
Justin’s voice rose, but not wildly. It was the kind of anger that came from love buried too deep. His fists were clenched, his nostrils flaring — but his eyes… they betrayed the truth.
He was scared.
Scared to lose his brother again.
But Fort was barely hearing his voice anymore. His gaze had fallen to the side.
To a wall Digitalcalendar.
May 20, 2024.
His heart stopped.
JEON FORT
[No… It can’t be…
This date… It’s before everything happened.]
He blinked once.
Twice.
A single breath escaped his lips.
Everything inside him collapsed. Then slowly rebuilt itself — stronger, colder.
JEON FORT
[ I can still protect them.
I can love him properly.
I can kill the ones who destroyed us… in the cruelest way possible]
And his brother was still shouting in the background.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
ARE YOU NOT GONNA SAY ANYTHING?!
Fort turned to him, eyes steady now. Breath controlled. Voice low.
JEON FORT
I’ll stop everything.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
What??
JEON FORT
No more car races. No more trouble. I’ll be good.
Justin stared at him, confused. Like Fort had been swapped with a stranger.
This wasn’t the brother who always shouted back.
This wasn’t the firecracker he had to drag out of fights
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
I don’t care about your racing, Fort,
Justin said finally, voice harder.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
I Don’t care what you do. I just don’t want to bury you.
The room went silent.
Justin turned, ready to walk out — still burning, still confused.
And then—
JEON FORT
I’ll take care of myself… Hyung.
Justin stopped.
He didn’t turn back.
But his heartbeat faltered for a second.
JEON JUSTIN (JJK) (ISSAC BROTHER )
[Hyung.
That word hadn’t come from Fort’s lips in years.]
He stood still for a breath. Then, without a word, left the room.
Fort laid back against the pillows, his eyes drifting to the ceiling again.
He didn’t blink.
Still staring at the white ceiling above him.
Still waiting to wake up.
The white ceiling still didn’t change.
Neither did the sound of the machines. The oxygen. The scent of antiseptic.
But Fort stayed quiet.
He didn’t want to blink.
Didn’t want to breathe.
Didn’t want to accept that this world — this moment — was real.
A world where the people who died for him were still alive.
Where the blood hadn’t spilled.
Where Sky still smiled.
Where his brother still scolded him like a devil and didn’t lie under soil.
Fort didn’t move.
He just stared at the ceiling.
Like he was convincing himself it wasn’t a dream.
And then—
The door clicked open again.
And the voice that followed was enough to make the air shake.
PARK JAIMIN
Ya… why didn’t you die yet?
Fort turned his head slowly.
Standing there — messy hair, long coat, chewing gum like it was the most important job in the world — was Park Jamin.
His cousin. His headache. His shadow. His unwanted nurse.
Jamin stared at him with dramatic disbelief.
PARK JAIMIN
Tsk. Even death doesn’t want you, huh?
He stood at the entrance, panting slightly, hands on his knees like he’d just run from a battlefield.
His eyes scanned Fort up and down — lying still, eyes open, not screaming, not throwing a pillow — just calm.
Too calm.
PARK JAIMIN
Seriously, ( Jamin huffed, walking in,) I came prepared for crying aunties, incense sticks, and at least three fake wailing cousins... and you’re just chilling here like you’re at a spa?
No reply.
Fort slowly turned his head toward him.
No glare. No insult.
Just... calm eyes.
Jamin blinked.
Then frowned.
PARK JAIMIN
Okay, who the hell are you and what have you done with Jeon Fort?
Fort adjusted the blanket quietly.
JEON FORT
When’s the discharge?
PARK JAIMIN
You just survived a full-speed crash. The nurse said your car tried to become a butterfly. And you’re asking about discharge like this is a hotel check-out?
JEON FORT
I want to go home.
Now Jamin actually froze. His eyes squinted in suspicion.
PARK JAIMIN
You sure you didn’t bump your soul too?
What’s with this peaceful monk energy? I leave you for one accident and you come back with a whole personality update?
PARK JAIMIN
Ah, now you call him Hyung (Jamin muttered.)
Next thing you’ll say is ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.
Fort raised a brow.
Jamin sat down dramatically, sighing like the world betrayed him.
PARK JAIMIN
Yeah, your brother came here like a full black thundercloud. Stayed five minutes. Yelled at the nurse. Stared at your face like he was gonna punch your coma.
Then left.
Fort straightened up slowly.
JEON FORT
Where did he go?
PARK JAIMIN
Do I look like I have the guts to ask him?
He’s the king of devils, Fort. He glares — I disappear.
You think I stood there like, ‘Excuse me, mafia king, can I know your personal schedule?’ No thanks.
Fort stayed quiet for a moment.
Jamin narrowed his eyes again.
PARK JAIMIN
You’re very different today.
Like scary different.
If I knew one accident would make you this decent, I would've crashed your bike myself two years ago.
Fort exhaled a tired smile.
JEON FORT
Maybe all I needed was a slap on the head.
PARK JAIMIN
Noooo… don’t say that. Now you’re giving me ideas.
Should I do it properly next time? Steel pipe?
JEON FORT
Let’s just go home
Jamin stood up, brushing invisible dust off his pants.
PARK JAIMIN
Alright, alright, you miracle man. But don’t blame me if you faint halfway. You still look like a rejected ghost
Outside the Hospital – On the Way Home
The car ride was mostly quiet.
Fort sat beside the window, staring at the world like he hadn’t seen it in years.
The trees.
The sky.
The people.
Alive.
> Still alive.
Jamin drove with one hand on the wheel, one elbow out the window, chewing gum like he had no idea how intense the silence was.
PARK JAIMIN
You’re not gonna ask where I parked your bike?
PARK JAIMIN
Wow. Okay, yes. Something is definitely wrong with you
Fort still didn’t answer.
PARK JAIMIN
You gonna start meditating and drinking green juice too?
Should I stop calling you Fort and start calling you Buddha?
Fort chuckled, just barely.
JEON FORT
You never change.
PARK JAIMIN
And you changed too much, so we’re balanced,
They finally pulled up to the Jeon mansion gate.
Guards opened it instantly. Fort looked up at the building — huge, proud, deadly beautiful. Like nothing bad had ever happened here.
But he knew the truth.
Inside these walls… betrayal had bloomed.
Lies were whispered behind velvet curtains.
People smiled — then buried the ones who trusted them.
He clenched his jaw.
> Not this time.
Jamin tapped the steering whe
PARK JAIMIN
We’re home. You still breathing?
Fort opened the car door, stepping out with quiet strength.
He walked a few steps, then stopped.
JEON FORT
You not coming???
Jamin blinked. Then laughed
PARK JAIMIN
Coming with you?
Babe, I survived your brother’s rage this morning. I’m not doing a double feature with your dad.
One mafia glare a day is my limit.
Also—I still have a few flirting lines saved up for a hot kitten. I’m not ready to die yet.
He leaned out of the window dramatically.
PARK JAIMIN
You? You already experienced death. You’re emotionally vaccinated. Me? I still scream when I burn my tongue on hot coffee.
Go be brave. Die again if you want. I’ll light a candle for you.
Fort stared at him. Calm. Silent.
Jamin pointed.
PARK JAIMIN
Text me if you survive, okay? I’ll bring you ice cream... or flowers!
Fort didn’t respond. He turned and started walking toward the mansion entrance.
Jamin rolled down the window and shouted from behind—
✨✨Fort stepped through the massive double doors.
Silence greeted him first. Heavy. Waiting.
And then a slow voice cut through it—
MR JEON (FORT AND JK FATHER)
Ah… I thought you died.
His father’s voice. Cold. Sharp as ever.
Mr. Jeon sat like a king on the velvet chair in the middle of the room, one leg crossed, glass in hand, judgment in his eyes.
He stared at Fort like he was dirt dragged in by the wind.
MR JEON (FORT AND JK FATHER)
Hospital bed couldn’t hold you long, huh?
Shame. That would’ve saved me from your next disaster
Fort didn’t react.
To the side, his uncle, aunt, and two smug cousins stood near the wall — like an audience gathered for a public execution.
The uncle clicked his tongue, pretending disappointment.
The cousins shared a smirk — like they were watching a circus show begin.
Mr. Jeon stood, slow and precise.
MR JEON (FORT AND JK FATHER)
Do you know how much trouble you’ve brought again?
News headlines. Police. Hospitals. Our name being dragged like garbage.
You were born to disgrace me, weren’t you?
MR JEON (FORT AND JK FATHER)
Tell me, Fort. Are you proud of the chaos you leave behind?
Still — Fort said nothing.
No emotion.
No answer.
Not even a blink.
He walked past his father like a shadow, like the words meant nothing to him anymore.
Just as after he reached inside the room, the aunt snapped loudly—
JEIN JIA... (AUNT)
See?
Still walking away like we’re not even worth a glance. No change. No manners. No respect.
Mr. Jeon didn’t speak again.
The room stayed frozen.
HIM
The room is dim. The curtains haven't moved in days. The air is heavy, thick with silence and memory. Fort sits on the edge of his bed, unmoving, jaw clenched, staring at nothing but the past.
Three days.
No food.
No messages.
No sunlight.
Just memories clawing at his soul.
His breath is shallow as he mutters to himself:
JEON FORT
I Hate the monster… But I am him. I was him.
He lifts his head. His eyes are hollow—but alive.
Something has shifted.
He reaches for the phone on the floor — lifeless, forgotten.
As soon as his fingers touch it… BZZZ!
The screen blinks. A burst of charge.
As if his energy brought it back.
RIIIIIING!
Spark Jaimin.
He slowly presses accept.
JAMIN (shouting like thunder):
PARK JAIMIN
ARE YOU PLANNING TO DIE INSIDE THAT ROOM, YOU EMOTIONAL DIRT BAG?
The phone almost slips from his ear.
PARK JAIMIN
DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS? It’s been TWO WEEKS since college reopened, and guess what? NEITHER OF US WENT! And now the PRINCIPAL is ready to ROAST US ALIVE!
And guess what’s better?! Your sweet little MAFIA BROTHER called me and said if you don’t show your royal butt in college in TWO DAYS, he’ll turn both of us into underground plants!
PARK JAIMIN
YES, he did! And I am NOT in the mood to be buried alive in assignments or surprises! I’m too young to die of shock. I still didn't fully show my flirting skill to my kitten
PARK JAIMIN
(snapping):
In how many centuries?
Call ends.
Fort stretches.
Washes his face.
Looks in the mirror.
Fort turns on the tap. Water runs like a river of memory.
He splashes it on his face again and again—
But he’s not just washing off the dirt.
He’s cleansing the past.
The weakness.
The version of himself that begged for love, that broke, that cried in silence.
JEON FORT
Not again, he whispers.
Not ever again.
He picks up the scissors.
His long hair brushes his shoulder like old chains.
Snip.
Snip.
The pieces fall, one by one, like dead shadows.
He looks into the mirror again.
Not the same boy.
No softness.
No apology.
Just sharp eyes and silence — like a vampire who has seen death and returned stronger.
The door creaks open.
Fort steps out.
His figure — clean, changed, reborn.
Hair now short, tousled, framing his jawline like it was carved for war.
No flashy clothes.
No loud colors.
Just a black high-collar shirt, dark jeans, and eyes that warn: don’t speak unless you’re ready to bleed.
Every step down the staircase is silent… but heavy.
Like a king who doesn’t need guards to be dangerous.
He pauses halfway down, glancing to the right — the dining hall.
They’re all there.
His father. aunt and uncle. cousins.
Laughing. Eating.
Like nothing happened.
Like he didn’t disappear for three days.
No one looks up.
No one speaks.
No one even asks.
Then—
For a single second—
His father looks up.
Their eyes meet.
This time… his father doesn’t look at a broken boy.
He sees something different.
Something colder.
Stronger.
Unknown.
And yet, he says nothing.
No approval. No rejection.
Just silence.
And Fort doesn’t wait for any.
He walks out of the villa.
He sees a black bike parked just ahead.
Leaning against it, arms crossed, wearing a deep brown hoodie and untied shoelaces, is Jaimin.
He looks up.
Then blinks.
Once.
Twice.
Jaimin crosses his arms, looking him up and down with that classic judgmental best-friend stare
PARK JAIMIN
So let me guess…
You spent three days in a room not to sleep, not to cry, not to even respond to me…
But to do something uncanny. Like summon spirits. Or write poetry. Or shave your soul.
He circles Fort like he's inspecting a newly bought action figure.
PARK JAIMIN
And after all that, this is the result?
Hair chopped. Black shirt. Silent face. You look like your brother now. Sacred. Musty-eyed. Mafia boy 2.0.
Fort raises a brow.
Says nothing.
PARK JAIMIN
(mock-shivering) You say one more mysterious line like ‘I’m not the same Fort anymore’ — I swear I’ll throw this helmet at your head and walk away. I’m not built for spiritual side quests at 8 AM.
JEON FORT
I was going to say: let’s go to college.
PARK JAIMIN
(deadpan):
…Oh.
Well. That’s disappointingly normal of you.
PARK JAIMIN
He tosses Fort the helmet.
> Fine. Get on before you change your mind and start glowing with trauma again.
Fort catches it, smirking a little as he mounts the bike behind Jaimin.
PARK JAIMIN
(mumbling as he starts the engine)
> Can’t believe I’m the mentally stable today. World really ending.
Students moving in groups, laughing.
Some checking their phones, heads low.
Others parking cars like it’s a fashion show.
Boys flirting shamelessly, girls flipping their hair with practiced ease.
Corridors filled with noise, voices, perfume.
Until—
VRROOOM. VRROOM.
Two bikes entered the gate like a storm breaking routine.
Everyone looked up.
All at once.
As if time itself paused for this entrance.
The bikes pulled in together.
Perfect sync.
Like they practiced for a movie scene.
When the engines died, both riders pulled off their helmets.
Fort.
Jaimin.
First, silence.
Then—
The gaps began to form.
People stepped back.
No one said anything.
They were all staring at Fort.
Not the Fort who smiled at everyone, who played along with teasing, who flirted and laughed and acted like royalty.
No.
This Fort…
Was something else.
Hair cut short, clean at the sides, falling sharp over his brow.
His jawline sharper than before, more grown.
Cold eyes, not aggressive — but unreadable.
Lips pressed together, not in annoyance… in control.
He walked like silence followed him by choice.
Something about him now made even the loudest mouths go mute.
Not one girl dared shout a flirty line.
Not one boy dared joke.
He didn’t even have to look at them — his aura alone said:
JEON FORT
“You can’t reach me anymore.”
Beside him?
Jaimin — the total opposite.
The moment he pulled off his helmet, his flirty grin returned like sunshine after a thunderstorm.
He winked at one girl, smirked at a boy, fixed his hoodie.
The chaos king was back.
But even he was quieter than usual… like Fort’s presence was holding him down just a little.
The two of them started walking side by side —
Like they weren’t walking to class… but into war.
One calm. One teasing.
Both dangerous in their own way.
Suddenly—
？？？
Fortttttt....... babyyyy.......
Girl’s voice echoed across the open space.
High-pitched. Dramatic. Echoing.
Like a peacock shrieking during prayer.
Jaimin froze mid-step.
His head turned slowly.
Eyes wide.
His soul visibly left his body.
He whispered to himself, voice dry and tired like a tragic old poet:
PARK JAIMIN
Why? Why in the morning?
This is supposed to be healing hour.
This is supposed to be my glow-up era.
Not her leech drama arc.
He turned to Fort, whispering through clenched teeth:
PARK JAIMIN
Fort. Brother. Morning child of the mafia sun.
If you turn around and respond to that soul-eater, I swear I’ll go back to the villa and lock myself in your room this time.
Fort didn’t turn.
Didn’t even blink.
He just kept walking.
And Jaimin?
He followed.
Still mumbling.
Still judging.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, biting her lip dramatically.
Everyone could hear. Everyone was listening.
And Jamin?
He was two steps behind, already done.
？？？
“Fort… I was so worried about you,”
“I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t eat for three days after your accident.”
“I came to the hospital! But your brother—ugh—he acted like some monster! He didn’t even let me inside. He thinks he owns you!”
PARK JAIMIN
(dry, disgusted):
You didn’t eat for three days… but somehow your lipstick stayed on point, your eyeliner sharper than your morals.
She ignores him, leaning in to look Fort in the eye with her disgusting puppy-face.
？？？
B-baby, I know you’re angry… but when you’re angry, you’re even hotter. but your brother___
Fort stops walking.
She smiles — thinking she won.
But the moment she feels Fort slowly peel her fingers off his arm…
She freezes.
He doesn’t throw her.
He removes her like she's filth stuck on his skin.
Then he looks at her.
Eyes cold. Voice sharper than a blade
He said quietly, making her smile twitch.
JEON FORT
..knows exactly who deserves to be near me.
JEON FORT
And who doesn’t.
He took a slow step closer.
JEON FORT
That’s why he didn’t let you in.
You don’t belong next to me.
JEON FORT
Don’t call me that.
(Fort’s tone didn’t rise.
But it hit like a slap in public.)
JEON FORT
And the next time you say my brother’s name with that tone...
Make sure your mouth’s clean enough to carry it.
Or I’ll clean it for you.
> With blood.
She backs away slightly, visibly shaken.
The hallway is dead silent.
Not a single voice.
Not a single whisper.
Even the air feels heavy.
She stares at him — confused, stunned.
This wasn’t the flirty Fort she used to toy with.
This was something else.
Something untouchable.
Fort turns without another word.
Jaimin blinks in admiration. Then dramatically sighs and starts praying out loud.
PARK JAIMIN
May the soul of that girl rest in the corridor she died in.
And may all the leeches find new hobbies before they catch Fort’s wrath
As soon as Fort and Jaimin walk in,
the noise inside the class vanishes.
Like the air just dropped in temperature.
Everyone turns.
Some mouths part.
Some eyes widen.
Because…
That’s Fort.
The Fort.
Who flirted with everyone.
Who passed winks, cheesy lines, made hearts race.
Who was the playboy king of the corridor.
But now?
He walks with zero expression.
His eyes don’t even scan the room.
He doesn’t wave. Doesn’t nod.
Doesn’t touch. Doesn’t talk.
He walks like someone who came to conquer silence.
A girl tries to speak—
Her voice dies before it escapes her lips.
A boy tries to tease—
One cold glance from Fort shuts him down instantly.
They take their seats.
And Jaimin leans in with a soft, devilish smile.
PARK JAIMIN
(quietly, to Fort)
Congrats. You’ve officially become the ghost of every flirty memory in this class.
PARK JAIMIN
(grins) I love this version of you. Can I get an autograph before the fan clubs come back with holy water?
They sit.
And no one breathes near them.
The room is quiet.
Too quiet.
Not because no one’s talking—
But because everyone’s whispering.
Eyes flick from screen to screen.
Messages flying between group chats.
.
？？？
What happened to him?”
？？？
No smile??No flirting?? WHO IS HE???
Just one week away.
One vacation.
And everything changed.
The flirty king who used to light up the halls…
Now sat at his usual seat like a shadow of war.
Head lowered. Hands calm. Aura deadly.
No one dared walk near.
No one dared touch.
Even the bold ones stayed quiet.
Then—
The door opened again.
Footsteps.
Small. Soft. Gentle.
Everyone turned.
And in came a boy—
Delicate. Innocent. Beautiful.
Carrying a small lunchbox in both hands.
Hair a little messy. Eyes full of unshaken hope.
A small smile on his lips like a flower blooming in winter.
.
Jaimin’s eyes widened.
He stiffened.
Felt his soul float a little above his body.
PARK JAIMIN
No. No. NO. Not today. Not this child. Not this angel.
Why did God send a flower to a graveyard?
He looked at Fort.
Still silent. Still unreadable.
Then he looked at the boy.
He remembered.
This boy came every day.
Every single day—
With a box of food. A box of love. A box of belief.
And Fort—cold, cruel, careless—
Used to throw it in the trash.
Every. Time.
And still…
The boy never stopped coming.
PARK JAIMIN
(in his mind again):Past Fort was cruel. But this Fort… this one’s a devil in disguise.
If he breaks this boy today… the warmth of that angel will turn to ash.
And when his mafia brothers find out—no, no, I don’t wanna die
The boy took two steps closer.
Then two more.
Eyes full of trust.
Everyone held their breath.
Phones held up.
Messages paused.
Eyes locked.
The boy reached their table.
Stood beside Fort’s chair.
Held out the box like it held all the kindness in the world.
Everyone waited.
For the anger.
For the insult.
For the storm.
But Fort—
Didn’t move.
Not yet.
PARK JAIMIN
(whispering to the heavens):
Dear God, if you're up there and not on vacation,
please… I beg you…
save my soul. Only mine.
Don’t worry about this pure child.
Just let me escape when the Mafia Brother Swamp explodes today.
I’m not built for emotional violence. Amen.
He gently placed the lunch box in front of Fort—
Just like always.
But this time…
No one knew what would happen.
After what Fort did to the girl earlier in the corridor,
everyone thought this would be worse.
The tension was thick.
Fort didn’t move.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t touch the box.
He just sat still, staring at the table…
Until his eyes lowered—
And met the lunch box.
He froze.
And in that moment,
the world inside him cracked.
Memories poured in.
Memories he tried to bury in the dark.
> The voice that laughed at his stupid jokes.
The smile that followed him through pain.
The hands that reached out even when he pushed them away.
The scream—
The last scream—
From someone who gave everything to protect him.
Fort’s heart tightened.
He didn’t need to look up.
He already knew.
He knew who was standing in front of him.
He knew whose love he shattered.
He knew whose life ended because of him.
And yet…
Even now…
That boy stood in front of him again—
Smiling.
Like nothing happened.
Like he had no scars.
Like the past didn’t burn them both.
Fort slowly looked up.
The boy flinched—just for a second.
But then smiled again.
Gentle. Shy. Like before.
He didn’t ask for anything.
He just stood there.
With love in his hands.
Like always.
Fort moved.
Slow. Silent.
He raised his hand—
Took the lunch box—
Held it for a second—
And then placed it carefully on his desk.
No trash can.
No insults.
No anger.
Just… acceptance.
Everyone gasped.
Eyes widened.
Even the air shifted.
The boy blinked.
Like he just saw a dream come true.
KIM SKY...
(in a small, happy voice):
T–thank you!!
He bounced on his feet, practically glowing—
And ran out of the classroom like a happy kid in a fairy tale.
Silence.
No one knew how to react.
Only Jaimin slowly, dramatically, slid into the seat beside Fort.
PARK JAIMIN
Everyone… tell my family I love them..I going to die.
Students whispered like they saw a miracle.
But Fort didn’t hear them.
He just sat there.
Staring at the lunch box.
As if it held everything he lost…
and somehow—
was still being given back to him.
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