rainflower-writes

[rainflower-writes]

HOLY SHIT ARE YOU FL0WERA1N ON WATTPAD???? this is a massive coincidence but I might've found one of your wattpad books through alien stage and your tumblr through orv. Like. Seperately.

I HAVE A TAB OF BOTH YOUR TUMBLR AND YOUR WATTPAD OPENED IN THE SAME CHROME TAB GROUP THING TOO I'M CRYING I'm so sorry if im mistaken either way have a great day

LMAO YOU FOUND ME (and yeah that's me ;p)

P/s: this story will be continue on my Wattpad account

[rainflower-writes]

—HYUNG! [PT.2]

—HYUNG! PT.1

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"Hyung" is a Korean term used by males to refer to an older male, typically an older brother or close male friend. It expresses respect, affection, and a sense of closeness.

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"Noona” is the term used by males to address older females, particularly older sisters or female acquaintances

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As time seemed to slip away, it was now Dokja’s fifth year as an elementary student, and he felt the weight of that very passage of time pressing down on him.

He stood at the school gate, his small frame almost dwarfed by the towering entrance.

The morning air was brisk, carrying the scent of freshly mown grass, yet it did little to ease the tightness in his chest.

Dokja’s lips were pursed into a thin line, his gaze fixed on the concrete pavement beneath his scuffed shoes.

He could feel the penetrating stares of his classmates, each glance a jarring reminder of his solitude.

Some eyes were filled with pity, their owners whispering to one another, while others sparkled with mockery, cruel smirks playing upon their lips.

He hated it.

Kim Dokja hated it.

The sharp stabs of their gazes weighed heavily on him, pushing against his small shoulders and making him long for the comforting embrace of anonymity.

What stung the most was the absence of his hyung, who usually stood by him, offering a smile and a gentle nudge to set him on his way.

Today, however, that warmth was replaced with a chilling distance.

With each passing second, [name] had become increasingly consumed by the demands of his final year in high school.

Their mornings together, once filled with laughter and shared breakfast, had all but disappeared, replaced by rushed farewells and a sense of urgency.

Dokja understood the importance of this year; it would shape [name]'s future and determine the path he would take.

Yet, that understanding did little to console the restless feeling that swirled painfully in his heart.

The moments spent with [name]—the affectionately whispered jokes, the small snacks exchanged during their hurried breakfasts, and the playful bickering that marked their sibling bond—were treasures stored deep within him.

They were not just routine; they were lifelines, joyfully interwoven into the fabric of his days.

Every shared laugh felt like a warm ray of sunlight, casting away shadows and fears.

But now, with the abrupt shift in their relationship, he felt as though that light was being snuffed out before his eyes.

With a heavy heart, he finally exhaled a deep sigh, feeling its weight settle in his stomach as he reluctantly stepped inside the school gate.

Each of his tiny feet dragged along the pathway, the familiar path to his classroom suddenly feeling foreign and uninviting.

The sounds of laughter echoed around him, a chorus of joyful voices blending into an overwhelming tide that swept over him, leaving him adrift.

He missed [name] more than he was willing to admit.

The void left by his hyung's absence was palpable, an ache that gnawed at him incessantly.

As Dokja trudged forward, each step felt leaden, weighed down by the absence of that special connection.

The familiar sights of the school, once filled with warmth and promise, now felt muted and distant, their essence dull without [name] by his side, ready to share in the joys and trials of the day.

—

It was a bright and cheerful Saturday morning, the kind of day that seemed designed for adventure and laughter.

The sun streamed in through the kitchen window, bathing the modest home in a warm, golden glow that danced across the polished wooden floor, highlighting the dust motes swirling through the air.

Dokja's heart swelled with joy; Saturday had always been his favorite.

His dad would be out and about for the whole day and return the next day, full of promise and the freedom to explore.

Although he typically looked forward to his mornings with anticipation and warmth, today was different.

Positioned at the corner of the hallway, Dokja narrowed his eyes, half-hidden from his Hyung's view.

Clutched tightly in his arms was a beloved chicken stuffed toy, its faded feathers a testament to countless moments of comfort and joy.

It was a playful memento gifted to him by [Name] on his 8th birthday, a day filled with laughter and joy.

"I swear it looks just like you," [Name] had exclaimed, that infectious laughter ringing in Dokja's ears.

The memory made his cheeks flush with a delightful mix of embarrassment and amusement, prompting him to retaliate playfully by slapping his brother's back in mock fury.

With a determined set to his lips and a playful glint in his eyes, Dokja carefully tiptoed his way toward the kitchen.

Each step was calculated, the floorboards creaking gently under his weight as he moved.

Just as he entered the inviting space, he overheard [Name] busy at the counter, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, rich and inviting.

It was a scent that felt like home, enhancing the cheerful atmosphere of the morning.

Without warning, spurred by curiosity and that playful spirit, Dokja blurted out, "Is she your girlfriend?"

The sudden question hung in the air, and [Name] flinched, caught completely off guard by the unexpected inquiry.

His hand jerked, and with a startled expression, he accidentally spilled coffee grounds onto the countertop, a small mess that only added to the hilarity of the moment.

He quickly turned to face his younger brother, a look of annoyance creeping across his features as he processed the unexpected question.

"W-what?" [Name] stammered, visibly thrown off balance, his eyes wide with surprise as he struggled to regain his composure.

"I said, is she your girlfriend?" Dokja repeated, his brow furrowing deeper in confusion as he searched his brother's face for an answer.

Each passing second added to the tension, the expectation palpable in the bright kitchen.

"W-where did you even learn that? And no!" came [Name]'s vehement response, his voice rising with incredulity.

He shook his head fervently, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite his attempt at seriousness.

In jest, he instinctively pushed Dokja’s head away, trying to mask his embarrassment and laughter amidst the absurdity of the question.

Dokja pouts slightly, a frown creasing his brow as he watches [Name]'s broad back move with purpose toward the girl sitting comfortably on the couch in their living room.

The space is a cozy mess, with thick textbooks and scattered notes covering the coffee table, remnants of their study session.

Laughter and animated conversation fill the air, punctuated by the occasional rustle of pages as they exchange ideas and insights.

As Dokja observes the scene, he can’t help but feel a mix of jealousy and longing, wishing to be part of their lively discussion.

Dokja huffed, his small feet making soft thuds against the polished wooden floor as he hurried down the hallway, hoping for her to read him a story since someone is too busy pinning for a girl.

...

[Name]'s right. Dokja needs to stop reading romance novels; they're teaching him too many new words.

—

"Is he your little brother?" Her voice flowed gently, a soothing melody that seemed to wrap around the words and draw the listener in with its warmth and charm.

It was a pleasant tone, one that invited conversation and connection, although [Name] couldn't help but wonder if the charm came more from her voice or his own scattered thoughts.

[Name] hummed thoughtfully, shifting his gaze from the weighty history book that lay open before him.

He watched intently as the small figure of Dokja, with all the enthusiasm of childhood, scampered away clutching a piece of chicken tightly in his tiny hand.

The sight brought a smile to [Name]'s face, a momentary distraction from the world of dates and events he had been trying to absorb.

Standing nearby was Bae Eun-sol, a classmate who had been a familiar face since their first year of high school.

Her expression was one of fondness as she observed Dokja’s antics, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of amusement and affection.

After a brief pause, she redirected her attention back to [Name], her gaze lingering a bit as she took in the changes that had unfolded in him over the past year.

[Name] had undergone a remarkable transformation following an unexpected growth spurt that coincided with the end of their second year.

He had developed broad shoulders and a more defined physique that seemed to reflect his newfound confidence.

The lines of his face had sharpened, lending him a more chiseled appearance, with his jawline taking on a prominent definition that hadn’t been there before.

It all made him appear older, more mature, as if he had stepped out of the awkward phases of adolescence and into a new chapter of his life.

Eun-seol couldn't help but chuckle to herself, reflecting on how far he had come.

'He's transformed from that small, awkward ball of chaos into someone so much more.'

"What?"

"it's nothing"

—

Graduation day unfolded like a vivid memory, its vibrant colors and sounds blending into a whirlwind that overwhelmed [Name].

He stood at the edge of the gathering, where the air was thick with excitement and the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

All around him, classmates joyfully reminisced about the years they had spent together—the laughter, the struggles, and the bonds forged in the fires of youth.

Yet, as [Name] observed this cherished moment, a profound sense of sadness wrapped around his heart, twisting it with bittersweet nostalgia.

“Getting nostalgic?” Eun-seol teased, her voice bright like the morning sun as she playfully poked his biceps with a gentle jab.

Her laughter was melodic, a sound that mingled with the chatter of their friends, but all he could offer was a faint smile.

It faltered slightly as his eyes fell upon the extravagant bouquet of deep red roses she held delicately in her hands.

The petals glistened in the sunlight, and he couldn’t help but feel a storm of irritation brewing within him.

Who gives red roses to graduates? It struck him as both impractical and absurd.

“Stupid ones,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance thick with jealousy, teasing the edges of his expression.

Eun-seol was blissfully oblivious to his inner turmoil.

She beamed as she engaged with her friends, her laughter spilling over as they playfully teased her about the roses.

“Oh, it’s just from someone in the other class,” she said, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that contrasted beautifully with the bright blooms.

Even from a distance, [Name] could see the shyness flickering in her eyes as they poked fun at her and the mystery behind the flowers.

It was evident that the attention made her both flattered and bashful, her smile blossoming more with each playful jab from her friends.

As [Name] watched this scene unfold, he felt a sharp twist of longing in his chest—not just for the carefree days they were leaving behind, but for the connection he knew existed between them that he never had the courage to fully explore.

The celebration of their achievements felt overshadowed by unspoken words and burgeoning feelings, and in that moment, he yearned for the chance to step forward, to shift the narrative from mere friendship into something deeper.

But for now, he stood silently, a spectator to the joy and laughter swirling around him, feeling the precious moments slip through his fingers like sand.

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“Hyung!” Dokja called out, his breath quick and shallow as he dashed toward [Name], a wide, affectionate grin lighting up his face.

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of hydrangeas, their delicate petals showcasing a stunning blend of deep blues and soft purples, each bloom shimmering slightly in the morning sun.

He lifted the flowers high above his head, a triumphant gesture that radiated his excitement, eager to share the blooming gift with [Name].

“Thank you,” [Name] replied softly, his eyes sparkling with delight as he took in the beautiful arrangement.

A warm smile blossomed on their face, and instinctively, they reached out to ruffle Dokja’s hair, an affectionate gesture that spoke volumes of their closeness.

In an instant, Dokja erupted into a flurry of playful protests, his cheeks coloring a charming shade of pink as he swatted at [Name]'s hand, trying to break free from their teasing.

“Hey! Stop that!” he huffed, the playful annoyance in his voice only adding to the lighthearted, joyful atmosphere that surrounded them.

Eun-seol sat quietly in the corner, her eyes keenly observing the lively interaction between the Kim siblings.

She had visited their household numerous times, and each occasion only deepened her appreciation for the bond they shared.

It was a bond that seemed effortless — filled with laughter, playful teasing, and an undeniable warmth that enveloped them.

No matter how often she witnessed it, she couldn’t shake a twinge of envy.

Their close-knit relationship stood in stark contrast to her own, which often felt distant and strained.

Still, there was something undeniably charming about the way the siblings navigated their conversations, their affection evident in every word and gesture.

Eun-seol could only admire them, wishing quietly for a connection that felt just as genuine and sweet.

"Noona!" Dokja exclaimed, his face lighting up as he spotted the girl walking toward them.

His bright eyes, mirroring the sharp gaze of his older brother, quickly shifted to the vibrant bouquet of flowers she held in her hands.

A wave of annoyance washed over him as he realized that his hyung was being overshadowed by a stranger he didn’t recognize.

Dokja couldn’t help but notice the agitation radiating from [Name], the discomfort evident in the way he stood, his expression shifting into one of frustration at the sight of the roses.

Dokja's small stature seemed to pulse with a mix of protective instinct and youthful jealousy.

'That ridiculous expression on his face would be completely pointless if Noona has feelings for someone else!' he huffed with exasperation, frustration evident.

As the minutes slipped away, Dokja found himself wrapped around [Name]'s waist, feeling both comforted and somewhat detached from the whirlwind of activity around him.

The solemnity of graduation day enveloped them; families and friends filled the stands, their faces beaming with pride and joy.

Yet, Dokja’s thoughts drifted, unfocused, as he watched his brother cross the stage, clad in a cap and gown with a mix of pride and relief.

The cheers and applause echoed around him, but they felt distant, almost muted.

He couldn't shake off the sense of boredom that clung to him, his mind wandering as he absently traced patterns on [Name]'s side, seeking solace in the warm familiarity of their presence while the world celebrated a significant milestone.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the landscape, Dokja found himself cradled in [Name]'s embrace.

The young boy, clearly weary from the day's adventures, stubbornly refused to walk any farther.

His head nestled comfortably against [Name]'s shoulder, his soft hair brushing against [Name]'s skin.

With his small arms draped loosely around [Name]'s neck, he seemed to relax completely, surrendering to the safety and warmth of their connection.

The world around them faded into a gentle blur as they moved together, a picture of trust and comfort in that tranquil moment.

"Kim [Name]!" The familiar, melodious voice of Eun-seol cut through the silent night.

Startled, [Name] spun around, his heart quickening at the sight of her. Eun-seol, with her long hair cascading down her shoulders, was making her way towards him, her legs moving with urgency as she hurried to close the distance between them.

As she reached him, a playful grin danced across her face, but it was quickly followed by a swift motion—she raised her hand and playfully slapped [Name]’s arm.

The suddenness of the contact made him yelp and step back, eyes wide in surprise as a sting radiated from the spot she hit.

"W-what?" he stammered, furrowing his brows in confusion. The playful nature of her gesture was overshadowed by his bewilderment.

Eun-seol pouted, her lips pressing together in a way that highlighted the rosy hue creeping onto her cheeks.

"You didn’t… you didn’t bring me a flower at all!" she exclaimed, the hint of disappointment lacing her voice.

[Name] frowned, tilting his head slightly to the side as he processed her words.

"What’s the use? You don’t even like flowers, Eun-seol," he replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone.

As her cheeks flushed deeper, Eun-seol shook her head vigorously, her frustration palpable.

"You—why are you so oblivious to things like this?!" Her voice rose unexpectedly, reaching an octave that made [Name] flinch, wide-eyed at her sudden intensity.

The contrast between her deepening embarrassment and rising voice made the moment feel both serious and amusing, and he couldn’t help but wonder about the underlying feelings stirring beneath their playful banter.

Dokja let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight of their unspoken emotions.

He buried his face in the warm crook of [Name]'s neck, enveloped by the familiar scent that always brought him comfort.

In that moment, a realization settled over him like a fog—despite the deep connection they shared, both of them were blissfully unaware of the intricate web of feelings that lingered just beneath the surface.

It was almost tragic how they were made for each other, perfect companions lost in their own worlds, unable to see the undeniable bond that had been quietly growing between them.

"Next time, you have to bring me flowers!" Eun-seol declared with a huff, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

The bouquet she had been expecting was nowhere in sight, only adding to her frustration.

Bae Eun-seol had spent the entire day perched on the edge of anticipation, hoping that Kim [Name] would finally gather the courage to approach her with a bouquet of flowers.

In a fit of exasperation, she suddenly swung the delicate roses she had received at an unsuspecting stranger, the sharp thorns grazing his cheek.

"I don't like flowers!" she declared with a flair for the dramatic, her voice echoing through the air like a thunderclap.

The man, who had intended to abscond with her, crumpled to the ground in shock, petals scattering around him like confetti.

Her friend stood by, eyes wide and mouth agape, struggling to comprehend the chaos that had just unfolded before her.

"What? Why?" [Name] blinked in confusion, momentarily distracted from the situation at hand.

His arms were gently cradling Dokja's small, peaceful body as the boy drifted off into dreamland, his soft breaths fanning against [Name]'s neck.

The juxtaposition of Eun-seol's annoyance and the calm serenity of the sleeping child made the moment feel all the more surreal.

Eun-seol irked as she flashed to taller male an irritated look "stupid!" she yelled before turning around and stomp away.

"Wait, Eun-seol!" [Name] called out, his voice rising above the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

He stepped forward with urgency, his heart pounding.

In that moment, the delicate hydrangeas, carelessly gifted to him by Dokja, teetered precariously in his grasp.

He reached out just in time, fingers curling around the stem to prevent the vibrant blossoms from toppling over.

[Name] frown in confusion as he watch her back radiating with frustration before realization cross over his mind.

"Eun-seol!" he called out in panic, watching as the girl didn't intend to stop.

"I like you!" [Name] bellowed in embarrassment as his face turned red, he was thankful there was no one in sight.

It seems that he has completely lost not only his sense of dignity but also a part of himself that he can never reclaim.

[rainflower-writes]

—HYUNG! [PT.1]

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"Hyung" is a Korean term used by males to refer to an older male, typically an older brother or close male friend. It expresses respect, affection, and a sense of closeness.

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Kim Dokja stood at the entrance of the school, a deep frown creasing his forehead as he observed the other kids his age laughing and chatting merrily as they hurried inside.

The sound of their cheerful voices echoed around him, making his heart sink even further. He felt a mix of frustration and apprehension surge within him, and his small hands tightened around his older brother's arm, gripping it as if it were a lifeline.

His older brother, a comforting presence, didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from him; he was too busy glancing at his watch, eager for the day to begin.

Dokja's backpack, worn and slightly frayed at the edges, hung heavily from his shoulder, a constant reminder of the burden he felt about attending school.

The weight of both the bag and his worries pressed down on him, making him feel even smaller among the throng of confident, carefree children.

He shifted his feet nervously, dreading the thought of the long day ahead and the interactions that awaited him inside those walls.

"Dokja, Hyung need to go now," [Name] said softly, kneeling down in front of the younger boy.

A gentle smile curved on his lips, trying to convey comfort in an overwhelming moment.

"I wanna go home," Dokja replied, his small hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of [Name]'s shirt, his expressive eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Dokja…” [Name] sighed, a note of concern creeping into his voice as he noticed the stubbornness in the younger boy’s posture. It was clear he didn’t want to let go.

Today marked Dokja's first day as an Elementary student, a milestone that should have been joyful.

However, reality had hit him hard, and he found himself feeling lost and anxious.

Meanwhile, [Name] was already navigating the challenges of Middle School, stepping into a new phase of life that felt worlds apart from Dokja’s.

The stark contrast was daunting for the little boy, leaving him clinging to the comfort of the familiar.

"How about this," [Name] suggested gently, kneeling down to meet Dokja’s gaze, "when school ends, Hyung will be right here waiting for you, okay?" His voice was soft, laced with warmth, hoping to coax a smile from the boy.

Dokja pouted, his small hands clutching the fabric of [Name]'s uniform with a hesitant grip, as if letting go would mean losing something precious.

There was a flicker of reluctance in his wide eyes, mirroring the battle within him.

"Hyung will read you three bedtime stories," [Name] continued, raising a playful brow and offering a reassuring smile as he extended his pinky finger, the universal sign of a promise. The promise seemed to hang in the air, a lifeline connecting them despite the distance that would soon separate them.

Dokja’s pout deepened, and he sighed dramatically, but eventually, he relented, linking his pinky with [Name]'s.

Their thumbs pressed together, a bond firm for now.

"Three bedtime stories!" he repeated, a hint of determination in his voice as he tried to mask the bubbling excitement underneath his grumpiness.

"I promise," [Name] chuckled softly, a fond smile spreading across his face as he lovingly adjusted Dokja's uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles.

The simple act made them both feel closer, even though the inevitable goodbye loomed.

With one last lingering look, Dokja turned toward the school entrance, his face scrunching up in a mix of determination and melancholy as he watched the distance grow between him and his Hyung.

The world around him felt larger and somehow emptier, but the promise of three enchanting bedtime stories filled him with a flicker of hope as he stepped inside.

School can't be that bad isn't it?

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The bicycle came to a swift halt, tires skidding slightly on the pavement as he patiently awaited the swarm of children emerging from the school grounds.

The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, but his attention was suddenly grabbed by a familiar figure darting toward him from his peripheral vision.

A smile crept onto his face as he turned to see his little brother, Dokja, sprinting up with wild, unkempt hair and cheeks flushed with what appeared to be a mix of exertion and distress.

He couldn’t help but suppress a chuckle at the sight of Dokja’s disheveled appearance and the unmistakable frown etched on his face.

“Hyung! I don’t wanna go to school anymore!” Dokja declared dramatically as he leaped onto the back of [Name]'s bicycle, his voice a blend of frustration and defeat.

He slumped against his brother, launching into a grumble about his horrible day, the words spilling out in a rush as he vented all the little injustices that had piled up throughout his day.

"And they actually have tomatoes for lunch! Who in their right mind eats tomatoes for lunch?!" Dokja exclaimed, [Name] shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement evident as he shook his head at Dokja.

They had just rounded the corner and were approaching the familiar sight of their home, the sun casting a warm glow over the quaint building.

With a playful grin, [Name] added, "Well, I eat tomatoes for lunch!"

His declaration was met with an exaggerated shudder from Dokja, who scrunched up his face in mock horror, clearly finding the idea repulsive.

The lighthearted banter between them softened the afternoon, making their routine stroll home feel all the more enjoyable.

They burst into laughter as they hopped off the bicycle, the warm afternoon sun casting playful shadows on the ground.

[Name] effortlessly pushed the bike to the side of the house, leaning it against the weathered wood where it could rest safely.

With joyful energy, they made their way to the front door, both of them exchanging playful nudges and bumps, their laughter ringing through the air.

In a moment that almost sent Dokja tumbling, he teetered dangerously close to his mother’s carefully tended flower pot, vibrant blossoms swaying precariously.

Just in the nick of time, [Name] reached out and caught him, steadying his balance and preventing a floral disaster, their giggles filling the space around them.

Their lighthearted bickering was cut short by the sudden sound of a loud crash, the noise reverberating through the stillness of the quiet neighborhood.

[Name]’s heart dropped as a sharp cry of pain, unmistakably his mother’s, tore through the air.

Without hesitation, he pushed Dokja behind him, his movements deliberate and protective.

Slowly, he cracked the door open, his breath shallow, peering into the dim room with cautious eyes.

Behind him, Dokja clung to his waist like a lifeline.

His small hands, balled into trembling fists, twisted the fabric of [Name]’s uniform, leaving crumpled creases in its wake.

His fear was palpable, his grip tight, his knuckles pale.

“Hyung...” Dokja’s voice quivered with barely contained terror, his wide, watery eyes fixed on [Name]’s tense expression.

[Name] turned and offered a weak, reassuring smile, though it faltered under the weight of the situation.

He reached down to ruffle Dokja’s hair, a silent promise that everything would be fine—even if he wasn’t sure it would be.

The room beyond was a chaotic mess. Empty bottles of alcohol were scattered haphazardly on the floor, their contents pooling in sticky puddles on the worn carpet.

The acrid stench of spilled liquor mixed with the stale air, assaulting their senses and making both brothers wrinkle their noses in unison.

Another shout echoed from the kitchen, this one louder and angrier. The sound made them both flinch, but [Name] recovered quickly, his protective instincts taking over.

He crouched down to Dokja’s level, his hands firm but gentle on the boy’s shoulders.

“Stay here,” he whispered, his tone low and commanding. His gaze was sharp yet full of warmth as he guided Dokja toward the nearest room.

Dokja hesitated, his lips pursed and his brows knitted with worry, but he obeyed.

He shuffled into the small room, casting one last glance at [Name]. The door clicked shut, leaving him alone with his growing fear.

He pressed his ear to the door, his small frame trembling as he tried to make sense of the muffled chaos outside.

The sound of shattering glass made him jump, his breath hitching as [Name]’s voice rang out—louder and sharper than Dokja had ever heard before.

[Name] never shouted.

He was always the calm one, the gentle one.

Hearing his raised voice now, tinged with both fury and desperation, filled Dokja with a cold, creeping terror.

Time dragged on, each second heavy and suffocating.

Dokja slid down the wall, curling into himself as he waited. The silence that eventually followed was almost worse than the noise.

The doorknob rattled, and the door creaked open. Dokja’s head snapped up, his heart pounding.

“Dokja...” [Name]’s voice was soft but strained, like a thread stretched too thin.

He stepped into the room, his figure silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway.

His face was a patchwork of cuts and bruises, the fresh wounds stark against his pale skin.

Purple and blue bruises were already forming, blooming like grotesque flowers along his jaw and cheekbone.

His uniform was wrinkled and slightly disheveled, the fabric damp in places from sweat or something more unsettling.

A faint smear of blood marred his collar, though he seemed unfazed by it.

“Are you hungry?” he asked quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Yet even in his battered state, there was a gentleness in his tone, an unwavering warmth meant to shield Dokja from the harsh reality clawing at the edges of their lives.

Dokja didn’t answer right away. His lips quivered as his wide eyes filled with tears. He could see it—the exhaustion weighing on [Name], the pain he carried not just in his body but in his heart.

Yet [Name] stood there, steady and unyielding, as if determined to bear the weight of the world alone.

He nodded silently, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

[Name] knelt down, pulling him into a firm yet tender embrace.

The scent of blood and sweat lingered on him, but Dokja didn’t pull away. He buried his face in [Name]’s chest, clutching at his rumpled uniform as though it were his anchor.

[Name] closed his eyes, resting his chin atop Dokja’s head. He knew Dokja understood more than he let on.

The boy wasn’t oblivious to the harsh reality of their home.

But [Name] had vowed long ago to protect him from the worst of it, to shield him from the darkness that loomed over their family.

To Kim [Name], Kim Dokja was everything—his light, his hope, his reason to endure.

And no matter how cruel the world became, no matter how much it tried to break them, [Name] would never allow it to touch his precious little brother.

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