In any high school you would be able to find two kinds of people, the one that everyone had a crush on, and the one who could only have a crush on someone. You belonged in the latter category, attributable to the biggest crush you had on a certain senior. He played baseball, he had good grades and needless to say, he was really popular. You obviously never even had a chance to speak a single word to him, all the while only looking at him from afar.  

A deafening crash travelled down the empty corridor one evening, scaring the hell out of you, who had forgotten your textbook and had gone back to the empty classroom to retrieve it. You followed the noise to a secluded storage room that hardly anyone knew existed. Through the tiny gap in the windows, you peered in, seeing a boy thrown against the metal cupboards. His hair was in a mess, his eyes glassy, and his body slumped onto the ground. Another two students towered over him.  

You squinted to get a better view and you were half-certain the guy on the floor was your classmate, Jinho. You were not close to him, hardly anyone was in fact. But you couldn’t just walk away. What were you supposed to do now? Do you call the teachers? Should you barge in?  

The tiny slit of light from the corridor was the only brightness filtering into the storeroom. Just as you were about to dash off to the teachers’ office, one of the boys standing over him turned his face slightly towards you. You will never get his side profile wrong, not even in the bad lighting, because that’s the only profile you were able to swoon at every lunch time.

It can’t be. This isn’t possible. Something’s not right. You reminded yourself time and again not to jump to conclusions. It can’t be that he was bullying Jinho. There must be something else to this. Before anyone saw you, you turned away and ran out of the building, without telling anyone about what you saw, without a single word.  

The next day Jinho came to school as per usual. You stared at him sporadically throughout the lessons. His expressionless face was no different than other days, but you felt uneasy. He looks fine though. Is he fine? Why would anyone bully him? It’s not what it seems, right?  

Lunch time came and you stared at that familiar side profile. He had the same cozy smile, laughing and chatting with his friends, but all you felt was uneasiness. It was definitely him in that room. Is he a bully? Why would he be? There must be some explanation behind what you saw, right?  

That night a classmate sent a video to your group chat, asking if the boy in it was Jinho. In the shaky video, the guy’s face was half covered, his upper body bare, and he crouched in a corner of what looked like a less-patronised school bathroom. Whoever was or were behind the phone taking the video had a field day hurling and splashing what you could only hope was water at the ragged boy. No one else could be seen in the video, and the sounds were muted too.  

Your fingers hovered over the screen of your phone, shaking. Don’t jump to conclusions, you reminded yourself.  

But the conclusion jumped at you – the next day Jinho didn’t come to class. In fact, he never came again.  

—

Taehyung was now sitting next to you on the floor, listening intently to you. The way you peeled at the skin on your fingertips was evident of how much it still stresses you out.  

“You must have been scared”, he wanted to make you feel a little less bad about your decisions.  

“That’s the worst part. I was scared of the bullies… but I was more scared of admitting that he could be the bully. Because I liked him… I told myself not to jump the gun, I gave myself excuses that I didn’t know everything. I lied to myself thinking that I was being fair, that I was being neutral…”, your voice started breaking.  

“… it was obvious… at that time… it was already so obvious… when I did nothing, I chose his side. I am no better than him… it’s not wrong if anyone calls me a bully too”, you were choking by now, tears flushing down your face, as you were into a whirlwind of guilt and remorse.  

And you were reminded of the words that you lived by ever since:  

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” ~Elie Wiesel  

“You are not a bully, Y/N…”, you felt his hands hold onto both of your tear-stained cheeks, his palms warm from the hot hairdryer air.  

“… you were the only person who helped me during orientation, remember?”, he continuously tries to wipe away your tears with his hands, but they continuously fall from your eyes uncontrollably.  

“Do you know tha… that… after the video spread around, Jinho couldn’t come to school? They say he locked himself up for days and… and his mother broke down the door eventually… and found him unconscious. When he woke up he couldn’t… he wouldn’t say a single word. She has all the right in the world to hate us. She wouldn’t let anyone from school visit him. But I keep trying… I just… I feel so bad and sorry to him… if only I did something, if only I…”, you rambled on, sobbing and choking through your tears.  

He pulls your head down onto his shoulders, “Everyone makes mistakes… it’s ok… it’s ok”, he paused a while before continuing, “We all hope for forgiveness when we make mistakes… so that we can breathe easier. But whether to forgive is up to the person who has been hurt… it is only fair that way…”, if the air could speak, it would probably sound like his voice now.  

When the ice beneath cracks, it cannot be fixed. And if you live with cracks inside of you, those are the marks of your mistakes. Everyone has cracks inside of them, small ones, long ones, ugly ones, bleeding ones. We create them on others and we get them from others. Some people let the cracks consume themselves, some people let the cracks consume other people, some people learn to live with them, some people learn from them.  

“So, maybe it’s not always about being forgiven… sometimes maybe it is about letting go. Not that we should forget about it… but sometimes we have to live with our mistakes and the consequences… live with them in our hearts, at least I think that is what a good person would do…”, Taehyung sighs, as you drenched him in your tears this time.  

These are the things he thinks about these days. Will he ever receive forgiveness? From you. Or should he learn to let go? Of you.  

“I know it’s hard…”, he started your hair lightly, trying all the ways he could think of to help you through this.  

“It’s nothing compared to what he had to go through”, you wept, referring to Jinho. 

“Mmm…”, the wisest response he could think of was to agree. He too knows, that whatever he was going through, was nothing compared to what he made you suffer. 

Not every mistake will be forgiven, not every wrong can be absolved. Out of respect for the hurt which has been caused, it should never be forgotten. Now and then, it will find ways to submerge you, seeping through the cracks within you, but you don’t have to let it drown you.  

He was waiting for you to use up all your tears but Taehyung must have been exhausted by his day, because as time went by, you felt the on your hair weaken and eventually his hand falls onto your shoulder. His breathing was deep and lethargic, his heartbeat slow, and you realise he must have dozed off with his head now resting on top of yours.  

The unhurried beats in his chest were soothing, his sweater was softer than your blanket and his arms circling you was like a fence. This moment felt safe, the air felt serene, the night felt tranquil.  

You guessed that this is why people are always known to be selfish. You couldn’t take someone’s side when they required it, yet you so readily accepted this gesture of companionship in your own time of need. You buried your face into his chest like an ostrich hiding from something, although even an ostrich wouldn’t be able to hide away from its conscience in this way. You were equally exhausted, and eventually the lullaby of his heartbeats lures you into sleep.

You knew you were still not forgiven, even with Taehyung by your side. But you were no longer bearing it alone, because Taehyung was by your side.  

—

In the morning, as you picked up that yellow post-it which had slipped out from your pile of mail, you finally now recognise the handwriting as Taehyung’s:

“Please don’t say anything
Reach my hand out to cover the mouth
But in the end, spring will come someday
The ice will melt and flow away”

Your smile at his words lasted a few moments, but then it slowly devolves into a bothered frown. Why did Haejoong not correct you when you asked if he wrote the notes?