Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Guilt Over Past Mistakes (Hanbin)

Hanbin had always been someone who carried the weight of responsibility. As a leader, as an individual who had worked tirelessly to get where he was, and as a member of a group that had become a family, Hanbin believed he had to do everything right. Every decision, every action, every move he made had to be perfect, or at least as close to perfect as possible. That was the standard he held himself to—and it was a heavy one.

But despite all his efforts, Hanbin often found himself struggling with a deep sense of guilt. It was something he couldn't escape, something that haunted him from the very beginning of his journey in the entertainment industry. From the very first time he stepped into the limelight, he felt as though he hadn't done enough. He questioned his every move, analyzing every decision he had made, especially the ones that seemed to have hurt others or led to mistakes. He never allowed himself to forget the times he thought he could have done better, and the things he believed he had done wrong.

It wasn't a new feeling. Hanbin had felt guilty from the moment his career started. He remembered the long days, the training, the sacrifices, and the intense pressure that came with being part of a group. From day one, he had known that his role as a leader meant he had to be everything for his members. But he was only human. He wasn't perfect. He had made mistakes, and the guilt followed him, a constant reminder of everything he thought he could have done better.

This guilt only grew stronger when the group's recent performance didn't go as smoothly as he had hoped. It wasn't a huge failure, but it was enough to make Hanbin question his ability to lead. The timing of the choreography had been slightly off, and he could sense the tension in the air. The performance wasn't a disaster, but Hanbin couldn't shake the feeling that he had let his members down. In the back of his mind, he could hear the self-criticism echoing: I should have noticed earlier. I should have prepared better. This is my fault.

That night, after the performance, Hanbin withdrew into himself. He couldn't face the others. He couldn't look them in the eyes without feeling the overwhelming weight of guilt crushing him from all sides. In his mind, he had failed them, and the fear that they would see his failure was enough to make him spiral.

Hanbin spent the entire night in his room, staring blankly at the wall, consumed by his thoughts. The guilt gnawed at him, making it impossible to sleep. Every mistake he had ever made, every moment he thought he could have done more, flooded his mind in a continuous loop. His chest felt tight, his heart heavy with the burden of his own self-doubt. He thought about his members—Jiwoong, Zhang Hao, Matthew, Taerae, Ricky, Gyuvin, Gunwook, and Yujin—and how much they relied on him. He had promised them that he would always do his best, that he would lead them to success. And yet, here he was, feeling like he was failing them.

The next day, Hanbin barely left his room. His stomach was in knots, and his head felt like it was going to explode. He couldn't bring himself to face his members, not when he felt like this. He sat in his room, staring at his phone, but he couldn't bring himself to answer any of the messages from his group. He knew they were worried, but he didn't know how to explain the suffocating weight of guilt that consumed him. He had failed them, and he didn't know how to fix it.

His physical stress began to show. He felt dizzy and lightheaded, the constant knot in his stomach making it difficult to focus on anything. The more he isolated himself, the worse it became. He couldn't escape the feeling that he wasn't good enough, that he would never be enough for them. He had to carry this guilt, this burden, all on his own. He couldn't let anyone else carry it for him. That's what he told himself, anyway.

It wasn't long before his members noticed. They had grown accustomed to Hanbin's intense dedication, but this was different. This wasn't the Hanbin who had always been there for them, leading with strength and confidence. This was someone who was retreating into himself, someone who had lost the light in his eyes. The group gathered in the living room, all of them exchanging concerned glances. They hadn't seen Hanbin all day, and they knew something wasn't right.

Jiwoong was the first to speak. "Has anyone seen Hanbin? He's been in his room all day."

"I messaged him, but he hasn't replied," Zhang Hao said, worry creeping into his voice.

Matthew frowned. "He looked off yesterday, too. Do you think he's okay?"

The members looked at each other, unsure of what to do. They had all noticed the signs, but none of them wanted to push Hanbin too hard. They all knew how much he carried on his shoulders, and they didn't want to add to the pressure.

But Hanbin wasn't okay. His guilt had consumed him, and now it was beginning to show in the way he carried himself, the way he barely spoke to anyone, and the way he isolated himself from the people who cared about him.

After a few hours of silence, Hanbin finally emerged from his room. His eyes were red, his face pale, and his posture slouched in defeat. The members noticed him immediately, all of them rising to their feet in unison. There was a heaviness in the air, a quiet understanding that something was wrong.

Hanbin looked down at the floor, avoiding their gazes. He felt embarrassed, like he didn't deserve their concern. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to admit what he was feeling, couldn't bring himself to explain the guilt that had been eating him alive.

"Hanbin-hyung, we've been worried about you," Ricky said softly, taking a step closer. "What's going on? You've been shutting us out."

"I... I don't know," Hanbin muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "I just feel like I'm letting you all down. Every time I make a mistake, it feels like I'm failing you. I should have done better. I should have... I should have been stronger."

Gyuvin stepped forward, placing a hand on Hanbin's shoulder. "Hyung, we don't blame you. You don't have to be perfect. None of us are. We've all made mistakes, and we'll keep making them. But we're in this together. You're not alone."

Hanbin swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "But I should have done more. I promised you all I would lead you to success. I'm supposed to be strong for you, but I feel like I'm just... failing."

Gunwook, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "Hyung, you're not failing us. We've all seen how hard you've worked, how much you've sacrificed. We've all made mistakes, too. You're human, just like the rest of us."

Taerae nodded in agreement. "We're a team, Hanbin. We don't expect you to carry everything on your own. You don't have to be perfect. You just need to be you."

Yujin, who had been standing off to the side, finally stepped forward. His voice was calm, but firm. "You're not a failure, Hanbin-hyung. And you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's okay to forgive yourself. We forgive you."

The words hit Hanbin like a wave. For so long, he had carried the guilt of not being enough. But now, as he looked around at the faces of his members—Jiwoong, Zhang Hao, Matthew, Taerae, Ricky, Gyuvin, Gunwook, and Yujin—he realized something. They didn't blame him. They didn't expect him to be perfect. They just wanted him to be himself, and that was enough.

He felt the weight on his chest lift, just a little. He took a deep breath, his eyes misting with tears as he finally let go of the guilt that had been suffocating him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I've been so caught up in trying to be perfect that I forgot to take care of myself. I forgot that it's okay to make mistakes."

Zhang Hao smiled softly. "It's okay, Hanbin. We're here for you. We'll always be here, no matter what."

Slowly, Hanbin began to let go of the guilt that had haunted him for so long. With the support of his members, he realized that it was okay to make mistakes, that he didn't have to be perfect to be loved and accepted. And as the group surrounded him, offering words of comfort and understanding, Hanbin finally understood that the guilt didn't have to define him.

It was okay to forgive himself. It was okay to lean on his members. And most importantly, it was okay to be human.