Home; I Found With You // Ryeji FF

ugly parts.

She thought grief would become more merciful.

After going through the many losses, after having to witness an entire piece of her life burning away, she assumed she had finally— finally built some kind of tolerance. Some kind of armor to blunt the pain. Every single life Ryujin had ever loved and lost, had carved something out of her, leaving behind fractures she had been trying oh so desperately to seal, endlessly.

God.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

This hurt worse than anything that had come through her life.

Grief didn't magically become lighter– it just got heavier.

With Seulgi gone, the cracks she thought were secured tore open all at once like her heart had been stitched with threads too fragile to even hold any longer. The seams she once forced shut split widely, exposing everything she had fought so hard to hide.

Crushing.

Despair rushed in through those openings, faster and heavier than she could brace for, flooding the spaces their deaths had hollowed out inside her.

She shifted in her seat, the empty space beside her cutting deeper than any blade. She used to complain about the constant crampedness, knees knocking into someone else's, bodies squeezed shoulder to shoulder with no room to breathe.

Now there was room.

Too much for her own favour.

Her eyes lifted to the front, and for the briefest, foolish heartbeat, she hoped it was Seulgi behind the wheel.

Not anymore.

It was Yeji.

Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tightly they might break apart. Ryujin could see the pain coiled inside her, fighting to break through the cracks she was desperately holding together.

To her right, Yuna stared ahead at the back of Yeji's seat, unblinking. Her face was being held under something raw and unfamiliar— rage, sorrow, disbelief, all fighting for their space.

Moments ago, she was screaming herself breathless for her lieutenant.

Now she was silent.

A hollow.

Chaeryeong leaned into her as she sat in the middle, resting her forehead against Yuna's tense shoulder. Her fingers kept searching for the younger's hand, soothing comfort, something steady in the wreckage.

In the passenger seat, Lia sat rigid, eyes fixed on the dark road stretching endlessly before them. No spark. No snarky comments. No quiet smiles.

Just emptiness.

Like someone had scooped the light out of her chest, leaving nothing behind.

And all Ryujin could think was...

This is my fault. All mine.

She'd learnt loss before— many times more than a decent human should.

But she had never imagined that she would be the one to bring it to the people she cherished most.

Her head dropped, heavy and defeated.

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Today hit harder than most.

Three years had passed since she lost her parents. But the memories still clung to her like dirt that wouldn't wash off. She could still see her mother tearing her father apart, could still feel the warm blood on her hands as she pierced the blade into her mother's skull.