Only You (YeonGyu)

Chapter 3: A Strange Encounter

Had anyone ever truly wondered why life wasn’t balanced?

Beomgyu often did.

Was it simply because people grew up in different homes, shaped by unique family dynamics and circumstances? It was a practical explanation, sure. But despite that logic, a lingering question always haunted him: Where did evil actually come from?

He’d thought about it many times. According to faith, God created everything—the world, the universe, and humans in His own image and likeness. The first man, Adam, followed by Eve. God had entrusted the world to humankind, tasked them with nurturing it, and spreading peace. By design, all creation was good.

So then... where did evil begin?

If God was goodness itself—pure, radiant, holy—why did evil slither its way into paradise? Why was there a serpent, said to be Satan, in the Garden of Eden at all? If light was all that existed, how did something so dark find its way in?

Beomgyu couldn't help but dwell on it. Did that mean God created evil? Was it meant as a test? If so, why punish generations of innocent people for the sins of two? Why allow temptation into the equation at all, knowing what would follow? If God had the power to stop it—why didn’t He?

Couldn’t He have erased Adam and Eve and started over?

They were questions Beomgyu didn't dare speak aloud too often. Not because he blamed God, but because his thoughts might offend others. Still, everyone had opinions—ideas, theories, doubts. And the older he grew, the more questions built up, their answers lost somewhere in the fog of faith and fear.

But he paused his thoughts there. He knew too well how sensitive such topics could be. If anyone had been offended, he silently apologized. His curiosity wasn't meant to challenge belief—it was just an honest search for meaning.

Setting those thoughts aside, Beomgyu’s mind wandered to another aching truth: friendship.

Did people have real friends? Were they lonely like he was?

He hadn’t always been this way. As a child, Beomgyu had been vibrant and cheerful. Surrounded by laughter, he once had friends he considered family. They played together, shared snacks, helped each other through anything. But as time passed, things changed. Friends transferred schools, joined new groups, and slowly, he was left behind.

He tried to keep up with them—reconnect—but the divide had already grown. Eventually, he didn’t belong. They moved on, and worse, they turned against him. Some began to mock him, bully him, as if the bond they once had had never existed. Perhaps they were influenced by others. Perhaps they simply changed. But Beomgyu knew one thing: he had always been a loyal friend. Yet not one of them had been there when he needed comfort the most—especially not when his grandmother died.

That grief sealed his isolation. No one showed up. No one cared.

So, he became who he was now—quiet, wary, and emotionally armored. When you loved your friends deeply, but they tossed you aside like you were nothing—it hurt. God, it hurt.

Was he the problem? Or were they?

He didn’t know.

Beomgyu had been staring blankly out the window when a soft tap on his shoulder startled him. Blinking, he turned to see a boy with a gentle face leaning close.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention. The teacher’s calling you,” the boy whispered.

Beomgyu blinked again. The entire class was staring.

He slowly turned toward the teacher—Choi Soobin—who stood at the front of the room with a slight smile that sent unease crawling up Beomgyu’s spine. He was definitely in trouble.