When he woke up, he knew this wasn’t the dirty street he last remembered before blacking out. In fact, the ceiling seemed comfortingly familiar. Because he was fairly sure that it was the same ceiling he had been waking up to for the last two years.

It was the wafting smell of breakfast made him open his eyes, but he shook that thought of food to stare at himself in astonishment.

He was positive that he was literally beaten up where he couldn’t move an inch last night, but here he was dressed in clean clothes and in his bed.

He wondered if he somehow subconsciously dragged himself home, changed out of his clothes, and bandaged himself up.

If he did, then he was pretty proud of himself.

He winced when he stepped out of bed, bending over in pain. His stomach was screaming with agony when he realized that even breathing was a difficult chore. He eyed his table and spotted some ibuprofen pills.

He wondered if he managed to take that out of his medicine cabinet as well in his half-conscious state. Nevertheless, he reached over with his right arm while leaning on his left to grab the bottle.

Sharp pain shocked through his left arm and he muttered silent curses at the throbbing. He must have fractured his arm last night. He looked at his left arm which was bandaged and wrapped. He blinked at it in surprise because he was pretty sure the last time he checked, he didn’t know how to wrap a fractured arm.

He was going to spend more time musing over the fact that either he was a secretly a genius in a subconscious state or someone else helped him out, but the the feeling immense pain ruled thinking over out.

He popped open the bottle and swallowed the pills dry. He silently laughed at the thought that it had been only two years since he had beaten up this badly. And he was sure, this time was worse, but yet it seemed like the aftermath was better.

He heard his stomach grumble and the smell of breakfast reminded him that there shouldn’t be the smell of breakfast.

He slowly inched his way down the hallway and into the kitchen. On the way there, he almost thought that he was back at home again. That his mother would be in the kitchen cooking up his favorite food. That his father would be reading the newspaper, telling them what happened recently. That his younger brother would be eating the food his mother set out ravishingly, putting his sarcastic input on the news that happened.

Myungsoo stopped and closed his eyes in desperation. He knew that wasn’t possible. He knew that there was no way his family would be there waiting for him like two years ago. He had to remind himself that he left them. He left them to save them.

As he reached closer to the kitchen, he heard humming. Just like how his mother would. He half-expected to see at least his mother there, or else he was delusional from the pain.

But as he turned the corner and into the kitchen, he saw a familiar back and smiled. He might have secretly wanted it to be his mother’s back, but he wouldn’t complain about this one.

But then he frowned. What was she doing here?

He made his way slowly to the counter nearby, but stopped halfway because the noise made the girl turn around in surprise, spatula in one hand.

“Myungsoo!” she cried out in shock. “I didn’t think you would be up so early.” She turned around and continued to cook as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if it was normal for her to be in his kitchen cooking. “Luckily, I have enough ingredients to cook us both breakfast. Do you like eggs?”

Myungsoo cut the pleasantries and asked, “What are you doing here, Soojin?”

Soojin visibly stiffened and tried her best to continue cooking. “You hardly have any meat. Too bad because bacon would have been nice.”

“What are you doing here?” Myungsoo repeated, softer and more impatient than before.

Soojin bit her lip and set the bottom of the spatula on the counter with the top leaning against the pan.  She spun around, wiping her hands on the towel hanging on the bottom oven door.

She stared straight in his eyes and replied almost angrily, “Because I found you. Because I found you almost dead in the middle of a grimy street. Because I didn’t want to see you die.”

“What were you doing there?” he asked icily.

Soojin internally flinched from the tone of his voice, but didn’t let it show. “What about you? Why do you think you can do everything by yourself?”

He glared at her. “What do you know? I’ve done everything by myself. I could have solved everything. You don’t need to intervene.”

Soojin scoffed. “You’re ridiculous, you know? You can’t do everything by yourself. People worry, like me, like your friends. You could have died, if I didn’t find you. If I didn’t help you. Why were you planning on confronting your old friends without letting anyone know?”

“They’re not my friends!” he shouted angrily, slamming his good fist on the wall.

She recoiled from the sudden sound and mumbled back, “Then why did you just leave? Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t we say we would tell each other what was wrong?”

Myungsoo softened his expression, looking away from her. “Not like this. Not in this way.”

“Myungsoo, just tell me what’s going on. Just tell me who you are. Let me help you,” she pleaded to him softly.

Myungsoo stared at her, his lips quivering just the slightest, and muttered coldly, “I’m sorry. I just can’t. Not you.” He turned away. “Just go,” he replied unemotionally.

Soojin stared at him for a while and nodded her head. She turned back to the stove and removed the food from the stove.

She gently set it on the counter and said softly, “At least eat.”

And with one last fleeting glance at him, who was still forcing himself not to look at her, she left him to himself.

Once Myungsoo heard the front door click shut in the encompassing silence. He let himself look at the food on the counter. A bowl of piping hot porridge and a plate of scrambled eggs. She even set out a cup of tea which was still warm.

He sat down in front of the food and painstakingly forced himself to eat even though it hurt to simply move. He ate every single piece of food, not leaving a speck to waste. And then he washed it down with the tea, roughly setting the cup back on the table.

He couldn’t tell her, but he could at least do this much.

Because there was no way he was going to let other person he cared deeply about to get hurt again.

Soojin honestly wanted to cry a little. The way that Myungsoo shoved her away so distantly. The way his eyes seemed blank and detached. In fact, she was on the verge on crying, but she it in.

Because she promised herself she wouldn’t run away anymore.

And then she dialed a somone she knew would pick up.

“Tell me everything you know.”

Sunjong was startled by the sudden exclamation by Soojin, his hand stuck in mid-wave. She stared him down, leaning on both of her hands which were on the table.

“Um. What?” he asked confusedly.

Sungyeol slouched beside him, his nose in a dark green book. They were sitting in the patio area of a small café near the school where Sungjong had told Soojin to meet them.

“Tell me everything you know about Myungsoo.”

“What do you want to know about him?” Sungjong questioned.

Soojin frowned, “About his time in that infamous organization.”

Sungjong became rigid with those words and side-glanced Sungyeol, hoping that his friend would help him, but his eyes were still attached to the book.

“I don’t think that’s my place to tell you,” he mumbled, trying not to meet her fiery eyes.

She narrowed her eyes. “I found Myungsoo beaten half to death. So don’t pretend you don’t know anything.”

Sungjong widened his eyes with that news; Sungyeol looked up from his book.

“Wha-what? Again?” Sungjong muttered softly.

“Again?” she repeated humorlessly.

Sungjong became flustered. “I mean… you know…” he trailed off, his eyes shifting from left to right.

“Senior year.”

Both Soojin and Sungjong looked at Sungyeol whose eyes were still fixed on the book. “Senior year is when we became friends,” he said again, now looking properly at both of them.

Sungjong sighed and waved Soojin down to take a seat. He said in a defeated tone, “Do want the short version or the long version?”

Before Soojin could open , Sungyeol spoke first. “Get the short version because Myungsoo should tell you everything else.”

She nodded in agreement and Sungyeol glanced at both of them, not moving his head in the process. He set in book down and looked pointedly at Sungjong, prompting him to start.

Sungjong gave him an exasperated look and began. “Myungsoo was famous. Actually, all three of them were. But the thing was it was all rumors. Nobody really knew if Myungsoo, the isolated, gloomy, unsociable genius was the rumored L of the three.”

“You guys knew about the organization?” Soojin asked suddenly.

Sungyeol chuckled darkly. “You heard rumors. And if you were desperate enough, you would go looking to see if they were real.”

Sungjong nodded in agreement. “Anyways, there were rumors about Myungsoo, who was the only one of the three who went to our school, since our first year. It wasn’t until our last year that he was in our class.”

“He was the most antisocial and cold person in there. If anyone approached him, he would look at you like you were the most idiotic person out there and you weren’t worth his time,” Sungyeol added.

Sungjong continued, “So in the end, nobody approached him. He always slept in his classes, and the teacher couldn’t even do anything about it because he always knew the answers. He mainly didn’t concern himself with other people.”

“The end,” Sungyeol finished monotonously.

Soojin looked blankly at him, and Sungjong rolled his eyes.

“Basically what happened after that is we needed to form groups. We were the only two who didn’t have a third member, Sungyeol here,” Sungjong grumbled, “decided to take Myungsoo into our group. And why so suddenly, I still don’t know why.” He smiled softly, “But I’m glad he did.”

“My decisions are always for the best. Do not doubt me, young one,” Sungyeol smirked.

Sungjong made a disgusted face and raised his fist, threatening to hit him.

“That explains how you were friends. But what about Myungsoo and his organization?”

The two boys looked at each and frowned. “Truthfully, we can’t really tell you much about it. Our information is too limited. And Myungsoo only told us part of it,” answered Sungjong.

Sungyeol shrugged. “He didn’t want us to know his dark secret past. Of course, we wanted to know, but what matters is him now.”

“I agree. But I think we owe Myungsoo a lot from what we heard,” Sungjong revealed.

Sungyeol looked at Sungjong oddly. “About what exactly?”

Sungjong nudged his friend. “Wasn’t the reason why he wanted to leave because of us?”

“Ah. That,” Sungyeol mused.

Soojin perked up. This was something she wanted to hear.

Sungjong noticed and grinned slyly. “Look at you all excited. You like him that much to worry about him like that?”

Soojin was startled by his statement but did not contradict him. Instead, she waited patiently for them to speak.

Sungyeol rolled his eyes again at his friend’s absurdity.

Sungjong laughed softly and then steered their conversation back on topic. “We hung around Myungsoo a lot afterwards, but we got into…” he paused searching for a better word to use, “…some confrontations because of it.”

“Long story short, Myungsoo left the organization because of us and got up pretty badly for it,” Sungyeol ended grimly.

“We don’t know what exactly happened, but Myungsoo told us that they weren’t friends anymore. We never heard about the organization after that, personally and from Myungsoo,” Sungjong said thoughtfully. He then looked at Soojin. “Until you brought it up.”

“So does that mean they’re back?” Sungyeol mumbled as he slouched deeper in his chair.

Sungjong frowned. “But does that even make sense? It’s been two years since that. Why now?”

Sungyeol shrugged. “Maybe they wanted revenge? Though that’s ridiculous. I thought it’s all about forgive-and-forget these days.”

Soojin fidgeted nervously in her chair, glancing at the two boys in front of her who were too engrossed in discussing why the organization was back in their lives again.

“It might have because of me,” she mumbled quietly.

“What?” Sungjong cried in surprise and confusion. Sungyeol merely raised an eyebrow in interest.

“I met the other two of them with Myungsoo one day. And since then, Myungsoo has been more concerned about them. And then I accidentally mentioned to him that my brother might have gotten mixed up with them and when I found him later, he was injured.” She ran her fingers in her hair in frustration while Sungjong and Sungyeol gave each other looks. “But he won’t tell me anything about it.”

“Sounds like Myungsoo,” Sungyeol mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Sungjong softly smiled at Soojin. “I’m sure he has his reasons for not telling you. The same reasons for not telling us anything before.”

Soojin looked away from them. “It’s different that before. Because he went looking for them instead of avoiding them.” She glanced at them. “And I’m afraid he won’t stop.”

Sungjong sighed. “Just give him some time. I think he’ll tell you eventually.”

“But then it might be too late,” she mumbled back.

“What exactly do you think you can do?” Sungyeol suddenly asked in a biting tone.

“Sungyeol!” Sungjong hissed.

He ignored his friend. “Seriously, what can you do? Can you help him by fighting them? Do you know their deepest darkest secrets? Won’t you be a burden on him?” he continued callously.

With every biting word, Soojin began to slowly lower her gaze and stare at her intertwined fingers. He was right, really, he was. What exactly could she do? She provided absolutely no help for Myungsoo at all.

But she looked back at Sungyeol and gazed directly in his eyes with unwavering determination. “I can support him. I can trust him. I can put my belief in him. Because isn’t that what he needs? Some proof that someone cares. That someone worries about him. That he isn’t alone. Because it seems like he missed the point in friendship.”

Sungyeol stared back at her with an unemotional face and broke into a half-smile. “That he did. That he did.”

Sungjong grumbled, “And I can’t believe he didn’t tell us that he met up with them! Even Soojin knew before us!”

Sungyeol nodded in agreement. “I propose we go to his apartment and question our friendship with him and then threaten him not to exclude us from such important happenings.”

Sungjong smirked evilly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Sungyeol matched the smirk on his face with same degree of wickedness. “Plaid shirts?”

“The black ones,” Sungjong added.

“And scissors,” they laughed darkly at the same time.

Soojin watched with a tilt of her head and a soft smile.

Because she hoped that with this, Myungsoo would understand that there’s something called friends who cared. That he didn’t have to suffer alone.

A/N: So many “s” names. And they’re all talking.

Those are some true friends. Threatening to destroy your beloved items.

Thanks for reading, and enjoy this chapter!