The Hidden Scar

Unspoken Truth

Aera's POV

The cafeteria buzzed with noise, filled with students laughing, chatting, and the clatter of trays. The air smelled like the usual mix of greasy fries and something that was supposed to resemble chicken. I wasn't particularly fond of crowded spaces, but sitting here at this table had become routine.

The guys were already here, occupying the best spot in the entire cafeteria—right by the large window that overlooked the school grounds. It was the kind of place everyone wanted to sit, but no one dared to take. After all, BTS practically owned it.

Jimin sat directly across from me, his face alight with his usual energy. I watched him talk to Taehyung, who was making animated gestures as he recounted some story about a prank he'd pulled during practice. The others were just as involved—laughter erupted in waves around the table.

I sat quietly, picking at my food and glancing around the cafeteria, observing everything without truly being present. It was easier this way, fading into the background while they carried on with their lively conversations. But even in my silence, I was very aware.

And then, suddenly, all eyes turned to me.

"Sana," Jimin said, his voice slicing through the din of the cafeteria. I looked up, meeting his gaze. His expression was softer than usual, more thoughtful. I could tell something was coming. "I've been meaning to ask you... Why don't you ever smile?"

The table fell silent. The chatter that had filled the space like white noise abruptly died down, leaving a heavy pause that settled over us. My hand froze midway to my mouth, the piece of bread I was holding forgotten. I felt every eye on me, waiting for my answer.

"Yeah," Jungkook added, leaning in slightly, his brows furrowed in genuine curiosity. "You don't show any expression. Don't you feel happy with us?" His words hung in the air, and I could see the others nodding along, a mix of concern and confusion on their faces.

Their expressions were searching, almost like they were trying to read something off my face that wasn't there. A distance they felt but couldn't quite grasp. My emotionless face—something that had always been a part of me—seemed to create a barrier they couldn't cross.

I kept my face neutral, but inside, something twisted. I hadn't meant for them to feel this way

I looked down at my untouched food, my hand slowly lowering the bread back onto my plate. The weight of their stares didn't feel as heavy as the memories that surfaced—memories I had locked away, hoping they'd never have to be unearthed. But here I was, their questions hanging in the air like an unspoken truth demanding to be heard.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "I... I was left all alone since I was in middle school," I began, my voice soft but clear. "My mom left me, and my dad died when I was just ten." My words came out slowly, deliberately, as if I were walking on a tightrope between vulnerability and control. I glanced up, seeing the surprise and sympathy etched on their faces.

"My neighbor took care of me after that," I continued, "but then... they left me too." I tried to keep my tone even, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me. "I've had an alone life. Nothing has brought me happiness since. There was no one left."

A silence followed, deeper than the one before. I could see the gears turning in their minds, trying to piece together the life I'd been forced to live. But I didn't want their pity.

"But trust me," I added quickly, a note of urgency creeping into my voice. "I actually feel very happy, calm, and... myself when I'm with you all. I feel comfort inside." I hesitated, searching for the right words, then sighed. "I'm sorry that I can't bring it out. The doctors said something familiar from my past might help... but it's not easy."