Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Ghosts of the Past (Shotaro)

Shotaro stood in the center of the practice room, completely still. His feet were rooted to the floor, but the weight on his chest made it feel as if he was sinking deeper into the ground. The dim lighting of the room cast harsh shadows on the walls, reflecting his tired, strained face. His normally carefree features were etched with fatigue, and the usual energy that surrounded him was absent. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face, but he didn't wipe it away. It was as though he couldn't move, as though every part of him was frozen.

The mirror in front of him reflected a person he didn't recognize. His hair, damp from hours of rehearsal, stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were clouded with exhaustion. For a moment, he felt detached from himself, like an outsider staring into the mirror.

His body was sore. His arms ached, and his legs felt like they might give out at any second. But it wasn't just the physical fatigue that wore him down. It was the weight of the expectations, the constant pressure to keep up, to prove himself.

Shotaro's breathing was shallow, almost as if each inhale took more effort than it should. He glanced at his arm, where the scar on his left forearm caught the light. His fingers twitched, as if they wanted to reach out and touch the jagged line that had been there for years, but he held back.

That scar... It was a reminder of a time in his past when things felt darker, when he thought that the pain would never stop, when he felt completely and utterly lost.

The day had started like any other. It was an off day between rehearsals, but that didn't mean Shotaro could relax. He had a fan meeting to attend later, and the excitement of seeing his fans always invigorated him. The journey back to Japan had been emotional, and he was looking forward to reconnecting with his home country. Walking through the streets of Tokyo was surreal. The bustling crowds, the sounds of vendors selling food, and the familiar signs written in Japanese made him feel grounded in a way nothing else could.

Shotaro couldn't help but smile as he took in the sights. The memories of growing up in Tokyo flooded his mind, the streets he used to walk down with friends, the places he would visit during school breaks. Life had been simpler then. But that life was behind him now. He was no longer just Shotaro from Tokyo; he was Shotaro, a member of RIIZE, a trainee turned artist. And despite the massive strides he had made in his career, he still felt the weight of doubt, always hovering in the background, never completely gone.

As he walked alongside the other members, a voice pierced through the noise of the crowd. "Shotaro? Is that you?"

Shotaro froze mid-step. The voice was unmistakable. He turned to find a familiar face, someone from his high school days—someone he hadn't seen in years.

The other person's face lit up when they recognized him. "No way! You actually made it! I didn't think you'd go through with it."

Shotaro smiled awkwardly. "Hey, it's been a long time," he said, trying to keep the conversation casual. Inside, his heart felt heavy. The words "I didn't think you'd go through with it" kept echoing in his mind, clinging to him like an unwanted shadow.

The person continued, oblivious to the impact of their words. "I remember when everyone said you'd never make it as a trainee. That you weren't good enough. Look at you now. Who would've thought, huh?"

Shotaro's stomach twisted. The comment, though not malicious, hit a nerve. It wasn't the first time someone had made a passing remark about his past, but something about it today made it sting more.

"Yeah, who would've thought," Shotaro muttered, his smile forced. He quickly excused himself, eager to escape the conversation.

But the damage had been done. The words lingered in his mind, like a constant buzz in the background. "I wasn't good enough."