The hallway was empty except for the two of them—Sangwo's arms wrapped around Donald's chest, and Donald holding him like he might break if he let go.
For once, the silence wasn't terrifying.
It was... soft.
Breath. Warmth. The slow rise and fall of Donald's chest.
Sangwo's fingers clutched tighter, afraid this peace would vanish like everything else.
Donald whispered, "Hey… I'm here. I got you."
Sangwo looked up.
Donald's eyes were dark and worried—but behind that, there was something else. Something heavier. Like he was fighting to hold something in.
Yeon Sangwo blinked. "What?"
Donald didn't answer at first.
He looked away. His jaw tightened. And then—
"…I hate seeing you like this," he said quietly. "Like you're falling. And I can't catch you."
Sangwo's breath hitched. The words struck somewhere deep.
"I'm okay," he whispered, though he wasn't.
Donald chuckled bitterly. "You're not. And I can't take it anymore."
He gently pulled back, his hands still on Sangwo's arms. His face was serious now.
"I wanted to wait," he said. "For you to be okay. For the timing to be right. But... fuck the timing."
Sangwo stared, confused. "Donald—?"
Donald leaned closer.
"I like you."
It hit the air like thunder.
"I always have," Donald said, voice shaking now. "And not just as a friend. Not just 'worried about you' or whatever. I'm in love with you, Yeon. I have been for a long time."
Silence.
Sangwo stood there, frozen, eyes wide. Heart pounding.
And somewhere, deep in the white space of his mind—
"I'm in love with you, Yeon."
The words echoed in Sangwo's head like a bell underwater.
His lips parted—but before he could speak—
The world vanished.
His eyes rolled back. His breath stopped.
And then—
Stone.
Cold stone beneath his knees.
A marble floor stained with wine… and blood.
Yeon blinked.
He was in a throne hall, lit by flickering golden torchlight. He wore red silk robes, heavy with gold trim. Rings on his fingers. His hair tied with a jade pin.
He wasn't a student here.
He was a #?$#.
And in his arms—collapsed, bleeding—was Donald.
But not the Donald he knew.
This Donald wore black noble robes embroidered with a silver falcon. His hair was longer, his eyes older—but the pain in them was the same.
"Don't speak," Yeon whispered.
Blood stained Donald's lips. "You… shouldn't cry. Kings don't cry."
"I'm not your king right now," Yeon choked out. "I'm the fool who loved you."
Donald smiled faintly. "It wasn't foolish."
His hand touched Yeon's cheek—then dropped.
The light in his eyes faded.
Yeon screamed.
---
The vision shattered.
He was back.
Collapsed on the school hallway floor, gasping.
Donald was holding him again, panic in his voice. "Yeon! Hey—what happened? You passed out—Jesus, say something!"
Sangwo clutched his chest.
His hand was still warm.
He remembered it. All of it.
"I held you once before," he whispered.
Donald froze. "…What?"
Sangwo looked up at him with wide, shaking eyes. "I think… I lost you. In another life."
---