Sungjong sat on his bed with the ring was still in his palm. He threw his sight out of the window. The sky was overcast, thick and dark with the promise of rain. The tears on his face were dried. His eyes were a little puffy.

Someone opened the door and walked it. “Good morning.”

Sungjong barely registered the creak and shift of someone shifting on his bed; he didn’t blink, didn’t look away from the window, didn’t turned around and face his father. He didn’t notice. He didn’t care.

Nothing mattered.

His mind was blank and apathetic. No thoughts. No feelings.

“I brought you your belongings, thinking you might need them.”

“How long I have to stay here?” Sungjong asked, without looking at his father.

“Two more days or until you fully healed and allowed to back home.” Hyung Jun sensed something was not right but he hated to jump onto any conclusion. He might be wrong.

“Did you bring my phone?” Sungjong was looking up at his father with dull, empty eyes.

“I did.” Hyung Jun reluctantly gave the phone to its owner, knowing the next thing Sungjong will do.

Once he got his phone, he dialled someone’s number. Unfortunately, no one answer it. He tried again. He got the same result. Again, again, again, again, again – nothing. He got frustrated.

“Pick up the damn phone, dammit!” Sungjong cursed under his breath.

“Sungjong, if I may,” Hyung Jun took the phone very slowly from his son’s hand and looked at the screen. He knew Sungjong was trying to call his best friend. Hyung Jun swallowed. “Sungjong, my son, a dead person won’t answer a call,” Hyung Jun said softly, so softly.

“…What?” Sungjong whispered. No. He must have misheard. “What did you just say?”

“Sungyeol, he’s gone. He’s dead, son.” He couldn’t seem to meet Sungjong’s eyes now that his confession was out; he looked away.

There was a ringing in Sungjong’s ears - the kind of sound that shattered glass. Sungjong wondered numbly if his heart was made of glass, because it sure felt as if it was breaking.

“Why are you saying this?” he whispered, unable to keep the agonising disbelief out of his voice. “Don't say things like that. It's cruel,” his voice broke, and he shook his head, refusing to listen, refusing to believe, because that had to be it – it had to be some kind of joke – a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry, son but that’s the truth. Sungyeol is gone and he won’t come back again-”

“You.. you have no idea how much it hurts to hear- please stop– don’t-“

“I’m so sorry, son.”

“You’re lying!”

“No, I’m not,” Hyung Jun was still trying his best to control himself and the situation. Meanwhile, Eun Joo at the outside of the room, wasn’t able to hold her tears any longer. She was bawling so hard with her right hand on , trying to lessen the sobbing, and her left hand on her chest, trying to subside the pain.

“Sungyeol hyung isn’t dead yet! Why would he dead?! He can’t be dead!” He didn't mean to cry. He didn't even notice that it was becoming harder to breathe.

But when Hyung Jun nodded– just once, jerky and reluctant and so sorry, so sorry written all over his face – when Hyung Jun confirmed it, Sungjong sobbed.

“H-how? When? Why?”

“In order to save Myungsoo, he didn’t have any choice.”

Myungsoo- his husband, yes. His husband was saved. His husband got a new heart. He should be delighted. He should be exhilarated, crowing with happiness. But that reaction didn’t even occur to him.

The world spun out of control and shattered and he cried. His heart broke, his soul bled, and Sungjong cried on his knees forgetting his surroundings because they didn't exist– because the world had died, the sun had died–

Because Sungyeol had died, and nothing else would ever matter again. He was gone.

“Please, say it's a lie, a joke– say you d-don't m-mean it–” He couldn't breathe. He could barely see his father through the tears.

“I'm sorry,” Hyung Jun whispered.

Sungyeol was there, standing straight right before edge of Sungjong’s bed. He frowned. Deeply. Had listening to Sungjong’s rejection hurt? Because it felt nothing to this; hearing Sungjong cry, feeling him shake and sob his heart out.. this was his best friend’s pain, the one who was in love with, his half soul, and it was infinitely worse. He wanted Sungjong’s pain to stop, to end.

“You’re so damn selfish! How could you decided everything by yourself and totally forget about me?!”

“You’re right. I’m so selfish. I’m sorry.”

“Why you always thought by leaving me was good for both of us? Why?!”

“I always did something thoughtless and cruel to realise how much leaving would hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“How could you thought so little of me?!”

“It’s my fault,