Love Is Love (BL Short Stories)

~Kalin x Minju~angst small fluff

Title: Eclipsed Souls

Kalin stood at the entrance of the school, his heart heavy as he scanned the empty courtyard. The clouds hung low in the sky, mirroring the weight in his chest. His hands tightened around the straps of his backpack as he made his way through the building's cold corridors, trying to shake the nagging feeling that had been haunting him for weeks.

Minju had become a ghost in the halls, his laughter a distant memory. They used to sneak away to quiet corners, sharing stolen moments of peace in a world that refused to accept them. But as the months dragged on, the weight of their secret became unbearable for Minju.

At first, it was whispers. Kalin noticed the way their classmates stared at them when they sat together at lunch or brushed against each other in the hallways. Then, the slurs started. Words meant to cut deep, to shame. Kalin did his best to shield Minju from the worst of it, standing up to the insults, but the physical toll on Minju became impossible to ignore.

Kalin walked toward their usual meeting spot near the gym, hoping that today Minju would be there. But the corner was empty.

He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling inside him. He knew what was happening to Minju, and he felt powerless to stop it. The bruises Minju tried to hide, the hollow look in his eyes, the way he flinched when Kalin tried to hold him—it all painted a picture of a man slowly being destroyed by cruelty.

Kalin's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, his heart sinking as he saw Minju's name on the screen.

"Meet me on the roof."

The message was short, and something about it felt wrong. Kalin broke into a sprint, his mind racing as he climbed the stairwell to the roof of the high school. His chest tightened with fear as he pushed the door open, the cold wind slapping against his face.

There, standing at the edge of the roof, was Minju.

"Minju!" Kalin's voice cracked as he ran toward him. But Minju didn't turn. His back was to Kalin, his arms wrapped around his torso as if trying to shield himself from the world.

Kalin reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the ledge. "Please, don't..."

Tears streamed down Minju's face as he finally looked at Kalin. "I can't do it anymore," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I can't keep pretending like it doesn't hurt. Like I'm not...broken."

"You're not broken," Kalin insisted, his own voice shaky. "We'll figure this out. We'll get through this together."

Minju shook his head. "No, Kalin. I can't fight anymore. They've taken everything from me. I don't even know who I am anymore."

Kalin's hands tightened around Minju's arms. "Please. We can leave this place. We'll go somewhere where they can't hurt us."

But Minju's gaze drifted back toward the horizon. "I'm already gone," he whispered. Before Kalin could react, Minju slipped from his grasp, stepping backward off the ledge.

Kalin screamed, reaching out, but it was too late. He watched in horror as Minju's body disappeared from sight, and the sound of his fall echoed in the air.

The world collapsed around Kalin. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, unable to breathe. He stayed there for what felt like hours, numb to everything but the crushing weight of the emptiness that Minju left behind.

The following days blurred into one agonizing haze. Kalin didn't go to school. He didn't leave his room. His parents knocked on his door, their voices muffled by the walls, but he couldn't answer. His heart had been ripped from his chest, and every breath felt like a betrayal.

He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Minju's face, haunted by the pain that had consumed him. The slurs, the violence, the isolation—it all played on a loop in his mind, and Kalin was drowning in it.

Weeks passed. The world outside continued to turn, but Kalin was frozen in time, trapped in his grief. The bed became his prison, his mind a battlefield. He thought about the life they could have had if the world hadn't been so cruel. The love they shared, torn apart by hatred.

The guilt gnawed at him. He had promised Minju they would get through it together, but he had failed. He had let Minju slip away, and now the silence in his life was deafening.

One night, as Kalin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, something inside him broke. The grief became too much to bear, too suffocating. He reached for the pills on his nightstand, his hands shaking as he unscrewed the bottle.

"I'm coming, Minju," he whispered, swallowing them one by one, the numbness washing over him as his vision blurred.

When Kalin opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a vast expanse of white. The air was still, almost serene, and his body felt weightless. Confused, he looked around, expecting to find the darkness of his bedroom, but instead, he was met with an endless horizon of light.

"Where am I?"

A soft voice answered, breaking the silence. "You're here."

Kalin turned, his heart racing as he saw Minju standing before him, bathed in light. His face was peaceful, free from the pain that had once tormented him.

"Minju..." Kalin's voice broke as he ran toward him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Tears streamed down his face as he held him, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"I'm sorry," Kalin sobbed. "I couldn't save you. I couldn't—"

Minju shook his head, gently cupping Kalin's face. "It wasn't your fault," he whispered. "None of this was your fault."

Kalin buried his face in Minju's shoulder, the weight of his grief slowly lifting as they stood together in that place beyond life. There were no more slurs, no more pain, no more violence. Only the quiet, comforting presence of the one he had loved.

As they held each other, their families wept in the world they had left behind. The school mourned. Their peers, once so full of hatred, were left to confront the aftermath of their cruelty. But in this place, Kalin and Minju had found peace, their souls finally free from the pain of the world they had escaped.

In death, they were together. In love, they were whole.

And in the silence of the white expanse, they would remain, eternally embraced, as the broken world they had left behind faded into the distance.