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The fight had been brewing for weeks, simmering under the surface like a volcano about to erupt.
Riku didn’t want to feel this way. He hated the jealousy that bubbled up every time he saw Jaehee with Yushi, his senior from the business program. It wasn’t just the texts or the calls—though those were bad enough. It was the lingering conversations after class, the casual hand on Jaehee’s shoulder, and the effortless way Yushi seemed to make Jaehee laugh.
Riku wasn’t like Yushi. He wasn’t confident or polished. And no matter how many times Jaehee reassured him that there was nothing between him and Yushi, Riku couldn’t stop the gnawing insecurity that whispered he wasn’t enough.
That night, it all came to a head.
Jaehee had come over to Riku’s dorm after his group meeting, a tired smile on his face as he dropped his bag by the door. “Hey,” he said, leaning down to kiss Riku’s cheek. “Sorry I’m late. Yushi hyung wanted to go over some last-minute project details.”
Riku stiffened, his heart sinking at the mention of Yushi’s name. “Of course, it was Yushi,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Jaehee to hear.
Jaehee froze, straightening up and giving Riku a tired look. “Riku, not this again.”
“What do you expect me to say, Jaehee?” Riku snapped, standing up from his desk. “He’s always with you! Do you even realize how much time you spend with him compared to me?”
Jaehee’s expression hardened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I’ve told you a hundred times—Yushi hyung is just a friend. He’s my senior, Riku. We’re working on a project together. That’s it.”
“Then why does it feel like he’s more important to you than I am?” Riku’s voice cracked, his hands clenching into fists. “Do you even see how this looks from my side?”
Jaehee took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “You’re twisting this into something it’s not. You know I care about you, Riku, but I can’t keep defending myself every time I talk to someone else. This isn’t fair to me.”
“Fair?” Riku let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think this is about fairness? I’m trying to tell you how I feel, and all you care about is defending Yushi!”
Jaehee’s jaw tightened, his voice rising now. “This isn’t about Yushi hyung and you know it! This is about your insecurities. I can’t fix that for you, Riku. You need to trust me, or this will never work.”
The words hit Riku like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He felt raw, exposed, and utterly defeated.
Finally, he looked away, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t working.”
Jaehee stared at him, his expression unreadable. “What are you saying?”
Riku swallowed hard, his chest aching as he forced the words out. “I think we need a break. Maybe some time apart will… help us figure things out.”
For a moment, Jaehee didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, his face hardened, his eyes narrowing. “If that’s what you want,” he said coldly. “Fine.”
Riku’s heart shattered at the tone of Jaehee’s voice, but he didn’t back down. “It’s for the best,” he said, though his voice wavered.
Jaehee grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder without another word. When he reached the door, he paused, his hand on the handle. “You know,” he said quietly, his back still turned, “I thought we could work through anything. But I guess I was wrong.”
And then he was gone.
Riku collapsed onto the bed the moment the door clicked shut, burying his face in his hands as the weight of his decision crushed him. He had been the one to ask for the break, but now that Jaehee was gone, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Why had he done that? Why had he pushed away the one person who meant everything to him?
But deep down, he knew why.
He was scared—scared that one day Jaehee would realize he deserved better. Scared that Jaehee would leave him for someone like Yushi, someone more confident, more capable, more… everything.
So he’d tried to protect himself the only way he knew how: by leaving first.
But now that Jaehee was actually gone, all Riku could feel was regret.
The days that followed were a blur of pain and emptiness. Riku went to class, but he didn’t hear a word the professors said. He stared at his meals in the cafeteria, his appetite completely gone. At night, he lay awake in bed, the silence of his dorm room almost unbearable.
And the worst part? Jaehee didn’t call.
Riku checked his phone obsessively, hoping for a text, a missed call—anything to show that Jaehee still cared. But there was nothing.
Of course, there was nothing. Jaehee was only respecting his decision, Riku realized bitterly. Jaehee had every right to be angry. He had every right to walk away after everything Riku had said.
Still, the silence cut deeper than Riku had expected.
By the end of the week, he was barely functioning. His best friend, Sion, had started showing up unannounced, bringing food and trying to coax Riku out of his spiral. But nothing seemed to work.
“You need to talk to him,” Sion said one evening, sitting across from Riku in his tiny dorm room. “This isn’t healthy, Riku. You’re miserable, and it’s obvious he’s miserable too.”
Riku shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s better off without me.”
Sion frowned, his patience wearing thin. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he snapped. “Jaehee loves you, Riku. Anyone with eyes can see that. But you pushed him away, and now you’re both hurting because of it.”
Riku looked away, his throat tightening. He didn’t have the strength to argue.
Two weeks after the fight, Riku had stopped trying. He stayed in bed, curled up under the covers, his phone silent on the nightstand. Messages from friends and classmates piled up, but none of them were from Jaehee.
Sion was the only one who refused to leave him alone.
It wasn’t long before Riku’s body gave out. One afternoon, Sion found him collapsed on his bed, pale and shivering with a fever. Panicking, Sion stayed by his side, making sure Riku drank water and took medicine. But the real issue wasn’t something medicine could fix.
Desperate, Sion made a decision. He grabbed his phone and called Jaehee.
Jaehee was sitting in the library when his phone buzzed. Seeing Sion’s name, he hesitated before answering.
“Hey, hyung,” Jaehee said, his voice quieter than usual.
“Jaehee,” Sion began, his tone urgent, “I know you two broke up, and it’s not my place to get involved, but Riku… he’s not doing well.”
Jaehee froze. “What do you mean?”
“He’s sick. He hasn’t been eating, barely sleeping. I’ve been looking after him, but he’s not getting better. I think… I think he really needs you.”
Jaehee’s chest tightened. The image of Riku—his Riku—lying sick and alone was enough to make him shove his books into his bag and rush out of the library.
When Jaehee arrived at Riku’s dorm, Sion opened the door with a relieved expression. “He’s in his room,” Sion said softly, stepping aside to let Jaehee in.
Jaehee entered quietly, his heart sinking when he saw Riku. He was curled up on his bed, his face pale and drawn, his normally bright eyes dull with exhaustion.
“Riku,” Jaehee whispered, stepping closer.
Riku’s eyes fluttered open, and when he saw Jaehee, they widened in surprise. “J-Jaehee?” His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
Jaehee sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush Riku’s hair back. “What are you doing to yourself?” he asked, his voice breaking.
Riku looked away, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I messed everything up. I pushed you away because I was scared… scared you’d realize you could do better than me.”
Jaehee’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Riku’s voice. “Riku, you idiot,” he said softly, leaning closer. “I don’t want better. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
Riku’s tears spilled over, and he tried to turn away, but Jaehee gently cupped his face, forcing him to look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry too,” Jaehee said. “I should’ve been more patient with you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. You are. You always are.”
The room was silent except for Riku’s quiet sniffles. Slowly, Jaehee leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.
“Let me take care of you,” Jaehee murmured. “Please.”
Riku nodded, his lips trembling as he tried to hold back another sob.
For the next few hours, Jaehee stayed by Riku’s side, coaxing him to eat a little soup and drink water. He helped him change into fresh clothes and tucked him back into bed. As Riku’s fever began to break, he finally drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep, Jaehee’s hand resting on his.
The next morning, Riku woke to find Jaehee still sitting by his bed, his head resting on the edge as he dozed off. Riku smiled softly, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in days.
When Jaehee stirred awake, their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.
“Are we okay?” Riku asked hesitantly.
Jaehee leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss against Riku’s lips. “We’re okay,” he whispered. “We’ll always be okay.”