The hum of conversation filled the small room as Renjun, Giselle, and two other students huddled over stacks of documents, finalizing donation plans for the upcoming community event.
"We could send some of the donations to the Kwangya Orphanage. They're struggling to keep up with repairs," Giselle suggested, flipping through a folder.
The pen in Renjun's hand slipped, clattering against the table. The sharp sound cut through the discussion. He quickly picked it up, but his fingers trembled slightly.
One of the students noticed. "You okay, Renjun?"
"Yeah, just... just tired. Long day." Renjun forced a smile, but his grip on the pen was unsteady.
Giselle glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightly in concern. She didn't press, though. The conversation continued, but Renjun remained unusually quiet.
Chenle and Mark walked side by side, their conversation easy and casual as they discussed their upcoming performance.
"So, I'm thinking we could perform at least five songs to keep it..."
Chenle's words cut off as his eyes landed on Renjun, standing alone near the lockers.
"Hold on." Chenle stopped mid-step, narrowing his eyes.
The hallway light caught on Renjun's hand, revealing faint, jagged scars. They were there only for a second before Renjun shoved his hand into his pocket. He glanced up, eyes darting around, and froze when he saw Ara standing at the end of the hallway.
Their eyes met for just a second. Then, Renjun turned sharply, disappearing around the corner.
Mark, oblivious, kept talking. "We could perform 'Hello Future.' It's literally a hit."
"Yeah. Sure. Sounds good." Chenle's response was absentminded, his thoughts elsewhere.
Ara hesitated at the end of the hallway, watching the spot where Renjun vanished. She didn't follow. Instead, she looked up, catching Chenle's gaze.
Neither of them said a word.
Then, without a word, they both turned in different directions.
Nestled beneath the shade of an old tree, Ara and Chenle sat on a bench, away from the noise of the school crowd. There was a weight between them, something unspoken but heavy.
"You saw it too, didn't you?" Chenle finally asked. His voice was quieter than usual. "The scars."
Ara nodded slowly, staring at her hands.
"I've never noticed anything like that before," Chenle murmured. "He always hides it."
"It's not just the scars," Ara said softly, but there was urgency in her voice. "Giselle told me he reacted when they mentioned an orphanage. Kwangya Orphanage."
Chenle tilted his head, confused. "What's the connection?"
Ara hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
"That's... a long story."
Chenle watched her closely. He sensed her hesitation. "You don't have to tell me everything if you're not ready." His tone was gentle.
Ara shook her head, her expression hardening with determination.
"No. You need to understand."
She took a deep breath, then finally looked up at him.
"Remember when my parents were arrested?"
Chenle nodded, his voice softer now. "Yeah."
Ara swallowed. "The next day, I was given some of their stuff. Just old papers, personal belongings. I was going through them, just... trying to make sense of things. And then I found the letters."
Chenle leaned forward slightly, fully focused.
"One of them was different," she continued. "It was addressed to Kwangya. Written by my mother. There was a photo too."
Chenle frowned. "What was it?"
Ara's hands tightened in her lap.
"It was for Renjun." Her voice wavered. "A letter telling him... that he was on his own now."
Chenle's breath caught, but he didn't interrupt.
Ara forced herself to keep going. "Renjun is my older brother. When I was a baby, my parents didn't want to take care of both of us. They never liked him. God knows how they treated him before they finally sent him away to Kwangya."
Her voice shook now. Tears burned behind her eyes.
"They never told me. They just pretended he never existed."
Chenle exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable.
"When I found that letter, I felt... shattered," Ara whispered. "They didn't just lie to me. They abandoned him. And I never even knew."
Chenle's voice was firm but kind. "That's not on you, Ara. None of this was your fault."
"I know. But ever since I found out, I can't look at Renjun the same way. And I think... he knows."
The pieces were finally clicking into place. The scars. The way Renjun avoided her. His reaction to the orphanage.
"The scars," Chenle muttered. "The way he reacted to Kwangya... it all makes sense."
Ara's hands trembled slightly. "But what if he hates me? What if he blames me for what happened?"
"Ara," Chenle said firmly. "None of this is your fault."
She took a shaky breath, tears threatening to fall.
"But it feels like it is. My parents hurt me my whole life, and they abandoned him. And now they're in jail, but the damage is already done."
Chenle shifted closer, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.
"Renjun doesn't hate you. If he did, he wouldn't avoid you. He's probably just as scared as you are."
Ara wiped at her eyes, frustration mixing with sadness.
"I keep replaying it in my head. What I'll say. How I'll tell him I'm sorry, even though I know I can't change the past. But every time I try to talk about it, the words just... won't come out."
Chenle's voice was gentle but sure. "Then don't overthink it. You don't have to say it perfectly. Just say it."
Ara took a deep breath, letting his words sink in.
"You've already survived so much," Chenle continued. "You're one of the strongest people I know. And whatever happens, you're not alone in this. I'll be right there with you. No matter what."
Ara managed a small, watery smile. The fear in her eyes softened, just a little.
"Thank you, Chenle. For everything."
Chenle nudged her shoulder lightly, a soft grin playing at his lips. "Always."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the truth settling between them. But instead of fear, there was something else now.
A small spark of hope.
Hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be made right again.
A.N -
- I just felt like reading and rewriting the scenes which I think is out of place (Sorry).
