BLOSSOMED | SEOKSOO FF ✔️

PART 15

The hospital corridor buzzed with a quiet urgency, but within Seokmin’s room, chaos reigned supreme. Seokmin’s anguished cries echoed as he flung objects across the room, his movements erratic and fueled by raw emotion. Nurses and hospital staff scrambled to contain him, their professional composure tested by the sheer intensity of his outburst.

"Don't touch me!" Seokmin shouted, his voice cracking as he shoved a tray off the bedside table. His eyes darted around wildly, searching for something else to throw, his manic energy unrelenting.

Jihoon stood frozen near the doorway, his heart breaking at the sight. This wasn’t the Seokmin he grew up with—the brother who always wore a bright smile, who would sacrifice anything for his family. This man was a shell, consumed by guilt and spiraling despair.

Soonyoung held Dino close, who was snuggling in his chest, he couldn’t bear looking at his Minnie like this. His other hand was holding Jihoon by his shoulder, reminding him the constant support he got.

"Sedatives," a nurse instructed, her voice calm yet firm despite the pandemonium. A second later, another staff member appeared with a syringe.

It took three people to restrain Seokmin long enough for the nurse to inject the sedative into his arm. He struggled, his movements jerky and violent, but as the medicine began to take effect, his body grew heavy. His defiant shouts faded into incoherent murmurs before he slumped onto the bed, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

Jihoon stepped forward hesitantly, his fists clenched at his sides. He had never felt so powerless.

In the doctor’s office later, Jihoon and Soonyoung sat across from a middle-aged psychiatrist who wore a grave expression. The weight of the conversation made the air feel heavy.

"Mr. Kwon," the doctor began, glancing at the chart in front of her, "your brother's condition is serious. Today’s episode wasn’t just a meltdown—it was a manic episode, likely triggered by his unresolved emotional trauma and guilt."

Jihoon swallowed hard, nodding. "I—I know he’s struggling, but..." He faltered, his voice cracking. Soonyoungheld his hand quickly. "Is it really that bad?"

The doctor sighed, folding her hands on the desk. "Seokmin’s behavior indicates deep-seated psychological instability. While the sedatives have calmed him for now, it’s clear that even minor stressors can trigger extreme reactions. If left untreated, he could become a danger not only to himself but to those around him."

Jihoon flinched at the words, guilt gripping his chest like a vice.

"My recommendation," the doctor continued, her tone firm but compassionate, "is that Seokmin be admitted to a psychiatric hospital for intensive therapy and monitoring. He may appear stable on the surface, but his condition is volatile. A controlled environment would ensure his safety and give him the help he desperately needs."

Jihoon’s head dropped into his hands. "I don’t know if he’ll agree to that. He’s... stubborn."

"That’s common," the doctor said gently. "Mental health stigma and fear of vulnerability often prevent patients from seeking help. But this is a crucial step in his recovery. With time and therapy, Seokmin can learn to manage his emotions and begin to heal."

Jihoon sat in the corner of the hospital room after urging Soonyoungto go home with Dino, staring at Seokmin’s sedated form. The chaos of the day had left him emotionally drained, but his mind refused to rest. It raced with unanswered questions and a growing storm of guilt and fury.

How did it come to this? How did his cheerful, loving brother turn into a man driven to such madness?

And then his thoughts drifted to Jisoo.

Jihoon clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the realization sank in. Jisoo had lived with this version of Seokmin for months. The very man Jihoon had once admired, the brother he had trusted, had become a monster capable of tearing someone apart—physically, emotionally, mentally.

"How did he survive?" Jihoon whispered, his voice trembling. The thought of his gentle, kind-hearted Jisoo enduring this torment made his stomach churn.

He closed his eyes, but instead of finding peace, images flooded his mind: Jisoo's bandaged head, the bruises on his throat, and the haunted look in his eyes the day Jihoon had rescued him.

How many nights had Jisoo cried himself to sleep?

How many times had he flinched, waiting for the next blow, the next scream, the next punishment?

And how had he managed to keep going, even when every moment must have felt like drowning?

Jihoon’s chest tightened as anger flared within him.

"You had no right," Jihoon muttered, glaring at Seokmin’s unconscious figure. "No right to treat him like that. No matter how broken you are, no matter what you're going through—Jisoo didn’t deserve it."

The memory of Jisoo’s quiet tears and fragile smiles filled Jihoon with an unbearable ache. He thought of the strength it must have taken for Jisoo to finally escape, to face the shame and fear of asking for help. And even then, Jisoo hadn’t blamed Seokmin outright—he had simply collapsed into Jihoon’s arms, too exhausted to speak.

"Did you even love him?" Jihoon hissed under his breath, his voice laced with bitterness. "Or was it all just about control?"

But even as his anger surged, Jihoon couldn’t deny the flicker of pity in his heart. Seokmin wasn’t a monster in the traditional sense. He wasn’t some unfeeling abuser who reveled in power.

He was a broken man drowning in his own guilt and rage, unable to process the depth of his mistakes.

And yet, that didn’t absolve him.

Jihoon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head heavy in his hands. The doctor’s words echoed in his mind: "He may appear stable, but little things can trigger him."

How many triggers had Jisoo endured?

How many times had he tried to soothe Seokmin, only to become the outlet for his brother’s uncontrollable rage?

"I should have known," Jihoon murmured, his voice cracking. "I should have seen the signs earlier. Maybe I could’ve stopped this before it got so bad."

But regret wouldn’t change the past. Jisoo had survived, and now it was his time to heal. Jihoon had seen the progress Jisoo was making at Jeonghan’s house—how Jisoo was slowly regaining his confidence, his smile, his voice. It gave Jihoon hope that recovery was possible.

Still, the weight of Seokmin’s actions loomed over him like a dark cloud. Jihoon glanced at his brother again, watching his restless form shift on the bed.

"If you ever saw what you did to him, truly saw it..." Jihoon’s voice trailed off, thick with emotion. "Would it break you, or would you just keep finding excuses?"

Jihoon’s jaw tightened as he rose from the chair. He approached Seokmin’s bed, his steps hesitant but purposeful.

"I don’t know if you can be saved," he admitted softly, his voice trembling. "But if there’s any part of you left that loves Jisoo... if there’s any part of you that still cares about being the person you used to be..."

Jihoon paused, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.

"Then prove it," he whispered. "Get help. Change. Not for me, not for Soonyoung, not even for yourself. Do it for him. Do it for the man you broke."

But as he stared down at his brother, so thin and frail, Jihoon wasn’t sure if Seokmin even had the strength left to try.

His mind raced to all the events since childhood, Seokmin being always the easy kid, happy in whatever given.

His mind raced to the past that only his mom, Seokmin and him knows.