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Minho had always been older. It didn’t mean there was a huge gap between him and Jisung—just a couple of years. But that difference often put him in the role of an older brother, though he never once felt burdened by it. He was older, so he always took more care of Jisung. It was natural.
They had been friends since childhood, and despite everything—school, stress, growing up—their friendship never changed.
When they were in school, everything was simpler. Minho always felt at ease when Jisung was with him. His presence brought confidence, and Minho never really thought about how important it was to have him around.
It was a friendship that didn’t need words. They spent every free moment together—watching movies, walking at night, sharing thoughts. Everything was as it should be.
But Minho still couldn’t forget that moment when his gaze lingered on Jisung longer than necessary. The heartbeat that suddenly froze, and that unbearable, wrong thought—"I want to be with you. More than just a friend."
Jisung was light. Like the wind. His gaze, his smile, his laughter—it all made Minho feel alive, and in his presence, all problems seemed insignificant. Minho surrendered to this feeling that had been growing for years. He didn’t want to admit to himself that there was something more. It was too terrifying. He would never dare tell Jisung about it—there was too much at stake. What if Jisung didn’t feel the same? What if their friendship shattered? Minho always chose silence.
In university, they were still close, but each was going their own way. Their fields of study were different, but it didn’t matter. They knew their lives no longer intersected as often as before, yet they remained as close as they could. Things became a little more restrained. They went out together less, met up less often. But they still kept in touch, and Minho continued to feel him near. Everything was the same, and yet—not quite.
But ever since Jisung learned about his illness, everything changed.
...
At first, he didn’t want to say anything. Fatigue, weakness, headaches—he tried to hide it all, hoping that with time, it would pass. But Jisung was smart enough to realize that his body wasn’t working the way it used to. Constant check-ups, consultations, tests. None of it gave him peace, and the doctors, in turn, couldn’t give him a clear answer.
And then came the diagnosis—chronic kidney disease. Everything was leading to one solution: a transplant. Jisung knew that if a donor wasn’t found, survival would be difficult.
That was when he got on the transplant waiting list. But the wait was agonizing. There was no guarantee that a suitable donor would be found in time. He watched his life slowly slip away, and despite all his efforts, he felt the weight on his shoulders growing heavier.
Minho was too perceptive not to notice the changes. Jisung was becoming more and more exhausted, the light in his eyes dimming, and he increasingly complained about the weakness that grew day by day. His movements became slow, and getting out of bed in the mornings became a struggle. But Jisung kept trying to hide it, pretending that everything was normal. He didn’t want Minho to worry.
But Minho saw everything.
He was always there, even when Jisung tried to conceal his pain. He knew something was wrong, knew that Jisung was no longer who he used to be. He tried to support him as best he could, but every time they met, he felt a wall growing between them—one that hid not only the illness but also his own feelings. Minho kept trying to find out what was happening, but Jisung always brushed him off, saying everything was fine. But it was a lie, and Minho knew it.
They saw each other less and less, and though they stayed in touch, Minho felt the distance between them growing. He could have asked outright, but he was afraid that if he spoke about it, everything would become too real.
...
The surgery, the transplant, Jisung’s life... and his own feelings, which he had hidden for so long. It was too much for him.
And then, one day, when Jisung collapsed again, Minho realized he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t just stand by while his best friend was on the edge. Minho made a difficult decision—he signed up to be an organ donor. He didn’t think about the consequences, didn’t consider what it might mean for him. He only knew that if he didn’t do it, Jisung might not make it, and then he would lose everything.
...
When Jisung woke up after the surgery, he was happy. The doctors said the operation was successful and a donor had been found. He was no longer in danger. His life continued. He didn’t ask questions—everything had gone as he had expected: a transplant, and now he was healthy. But there was one detail he didn’t notice right away—why hadn’t Minho come to see him in his hospital room?
At the hospital, Jisung was surrounded by friends and family, but Minho seemed to be avoiding him.
Jisung didn’t understand why. He was so grateful that Minho had always been there, but why, in this crucial moment, had he stayed away? Why hadn’t he shown up, even for a minute? He felt a little hurt but didn’t say it out loud. He was too happy to be alive to dwell on such thoughts.
The next morning, when Jisung felt better and was discharged from the hospital, he was happier than ever. He was no longer waiting for death, his life had returned to normal, and the light in his eyes had returned. He started attending lectures again, going out with friends, living fully—but something about his relationship with Minho unsettled him. Still, he kept his doubts to himself.
They met, they talked, everything seemed normal. But Jisung couldn’t forget that weight in his chest when Minho didn’t show up in his hospital room. He was grateful for everything Minho had done for him, but something inside him still felt unsaid.
...
After some time, when Jisung had fully recovered, he decided to meet with Minho. They returned to their old routine—sitting at home, grabbing the game console, and starting to play, just like the good old days. Minho was a bit tired, but that didn’t stop him from being there. They chatted for a long time, laughed, discussed anything and everything, and played their favorite game, as usual. Jisung felt that his life was finally returning to its usual rhythm. Everything was just like before. But when they began tickling each other, unable to resist their playful antics, Jisung accidentally noticed something strange.
On Minho’s stomach was a barely noticeable scar that Jisung had never seen before. It looked like a result of surgery—a neatly healed line, almost hidden under his clothes. Jisung stopped and looked at Minho, his heart began to race.
— Hyung, what’s this? — he asked, frowning slightly, and immediately felt his voice grow tense.
Minho remained silent, not answering right away. Seconds dragged on, and in Jisung’s eyes, a mixture of surprise and confusion was evident. He felt something tighten inside him, as if his heart suddenly froze. All these weeks, these months—he had thought there were no secrets left between them, that everything would be like it was before. But this scar, this mark on Minho’s body—it wasn’t just a sign of a surgery; it felt like some kind of symbol.
Jisung raised his gaze to Minho, and Minho noticed something more than simple curiosity in his eyes. Minho stood still, as though he had been expecting this question, as if he knew that sooner or later, Jisung would notice.
— It’s... — Minho began, but stopped again. He didn’t know how to begin. He was silent, unable to find the words.
Jisung gave up and slowly sat down on the couch, not taking his eyes off Minho. His heart was pounding, but inside, he felt a strange sensation—a mixture of anger, confusion, and painful gratitude. He couldn’t understand why Minho hadn’t told him about this before. Why? Why hide it?
— Minho, what is this? — Jisung repeated, and his voice sounded sharper than he expected. His chest tightened, and his eyes began to fill with tears. He felt as if his world had suddenly shifted, as if this one detail had shattered all his certainty.
Minho stood nearby, trying to offer an explanation, but all his excuses seemed empty to Jisung. He couldn’t even find the strength to explain why he hadn’t come to the hospital.
Minho felt as if the world was crashing down around him. He knew Jisung was right. He couldn’t justify himself. He couldn’t explain why he hadn’t come to the hospital—he had been there himself, in another room, recovering from his own surgery.
— Are you out of your mind!? — Jisung yelled, his voice trembling with rage. — How could you do that!? Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do!? Why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you ask me what I thought about it!?
Minho remained silent, his gaze tired and defeated. He knew that everything he had done was wrong.
— You don’t have the right to do things like that for me, Minho!—Jisung continued, standing up from the couch and nervously pacing around the room. — You can’t just decide for me what I need! You didn’t even think about how I would feel!
— I thought you wanted to live like before, — Minho finally said, his voice soft, barely audible. — I couldn’t watch you fade away every day. I... I just couldn’t lose you. It would have been too painful for me.
Jisung fell silent. His steps became quieter, and he stopped, staring at Minho. There was still anger in his eyes, but also pain. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know how to react to all of this.
— Were you ready to do this to yourself for me? — Jisung asked, and his voice held not only pain but also desperation. — Didn’t you think I might not be ready to accept such a gift? Didn’t you think that I might be the one to suffer from what you’re doing?
Minho remained silent. He knew he couldn’t answer that question. All he could do was stay silent and listen as Jisung kept repeating the same thing over and over.
Jisung stood up and walked toward the door, deciding that he needed to be alone. He didn’t want to hear any more excuses; he didn’t want to look at Minho. It was all too much for him.
Minho stayed standing in the middle of the room, feeling his heart tighten with pain. He knew that Jisung wouldn’t forgive him that quickly. He knew that all these feelings wouldn’t go away as easily as he tried to justify his actions.
Soon, Jisung returned to the room, his face red from anger and tears. He approached Minho and, unable to hold it in anymore, literally shoved him in the chest.
— Why didn’t you ask me, Minho!? Why didn’t you ask if I wanted this? Why didn’t you just talk to me? I can’t accept this, Minho! You’re my friend, you shouldn’t have done this! — Jisung said, tears welling in his eyes tears sparkled in his eyes, ones he could no longer hold back.
Minho, feeling the weight of the situation, quietly said:
— I couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer. I could never sit still, knowing you might leave. I did this because… I can’t lose you.
Jisung stopped, his breathing uneven, his chest rising and falling heavily. He understood that Minho had acted on his feelings, but that didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. He couldn’t just forget that his friend had made a decision for him without asking how he felt about such a sacrifice.
The silence between them became tense. Jisung stood there, unsure of what to do. He felt his anger slowly fading, but that didn’t mean everything was resolved.
— Minho, I can’t be around you anymore, — Jisung said, his voice quiet, almost inaudible. — I don’t know how to live with what I’ve learned. What should I repay you with?
Minho understood. He knew Jisung was right. And no matter what happened, they couldn’t go back to how things were before.
...
After Jisung left Minho’s house, everything changed. He couldn’t forget the storm of emotions he had felt when he saw the scar on Minho’s stomach. Pain, anger, resentment—they all mixed together, making it hard for him to sort through his own thoughts.
At first, Jisung tried to act as if nothing had happened. But the wall between them only grew taller. He stopped seeking Minho out, replying to his messages briefly and without interest. He didn’t want to, couldn’t, talk to him. Instead, all he could think about was how Minho—his best friend, the one who had been with him through his hardest times—had done something that made him feel powerless.
He went to university, and even though he now felt physically healthy, there was a weight in his heart he couldn’t shake. He began avoiding Minho, finding any excuse not to cross paths with him.
But Minho was always on his mind. Jisung was angry and conflicted. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel. The same questions ran through his head over and over. Maybe Minho had thought this was the only way to help? Or maybe it was because of his own feelings—feelings Jisung still didn’t understand?
Jisung couldn’t figure out what he felt for Minho. He was furious, but he also felt betrayed. He felt like he had been put in a position where he had no choice, and that unsettled him. But what was worse was that he didn’t even know what stood between them now. Minho had sacrificed his own health, and that was too much for him to handle.
Night after night, he woke up with thoughts of Minho, and with each passing day, those thoughts only grew stronger the thoughts became more and more unbearable. He kept thinking that he should have made the decision himself, not let his friend take such a risk for him. He wanted Minho to come to him, to explain, to tell him everything and clear up all doubts. But Minho didn’t call, didn’t text, and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to make the first move. In the end, he was left alone with his thoughts.
...
Why am I so angry at him? Jisung asked himself one evening. He did this for me. He saved me. So why does it feel so heavy? Why can’t I forgive him? He sat on his bed in silence, thoughts crashing over him like an avalanche.
Minho had always been there. That’s just how it was. He was his best friend. And now, his sacrifice wasn’t just a burden—it was something that had broken what they had between them.
Jisung couldn’t forget what Minho had done. And he couldn’t forgive him. His thoughts spiraled into one endless loop, and in the end, the emptiness and disappointment led him to a decision—he had to distance himself from Minho.
He didn’t know what to do with these emotions. He didn’t know how to live with them. But he was sure of one thing: he needed time. Time to understand himself and what this sacrifice meant for his life now.
...
A month passed, but the distance between them remained. Jisung tried to get his life back to normal, but the emptiness inside didn’t go away. He kept avoiding Minho—ignoring his calls, leaving his messages unanswered, as if refusing to acknowledge that something was wrong. But with each passing day, his feelings became even more tangled and painful.
One day, during a break at university, Jisung was sitting in the cafeteria with Chan. They were chatting about something trivial, but Jisung couldn’t focus on the conversation. He kept feeling a heavy gaze on him, making him tense up. When he finally turned around, his eyes met Minho’s.
Minho was sitting at a table with his friends, but his gaze was fixed solely on Jisung. His eyes were the same ones Jisung had always known—full of worry, sadness, and even pain.
Jisung felt his heart clench. He quickly looked away, hoping Minho wouldn’t notice his reaction. But even so, something inside him still ached. With every day of avoidance, Jisung found it harder to keep his distance, but he didn’t know how else to act. This was a battle, and he wasn’t winning.
Minho was watching him. Jisung knew he had noticed his reaction, but he still hoped—maybe Minho wouldn’t come over.
But when Jisung and Chan finished their meal and were getting ready to leave, Minho stood up from his table and headed toward him.
Jisung felt his tense shoulders tighten even more, and his heart began to race.
He hoped it was just a coincidence. But Minho stopped right in front of him. His voice was quiet but firm, as it always was when he tried to keep his emotions in check:
— Jisung, talk to me.
Jisung didn’t look at him, trying to focus on his coffee, but his grip on the cup was so tight that his fingers turned white.
— Why are you avoiding me? — Minho spoke again, and there was pain in his voice.
Jisung felt the tension inside him spike. He couldn’t put his feelings into words, and he didn’t know how to explain them to Minho.
— You decided everything on your own, Minho, — he finally replied, his voice low and cold. — You did what you wanted. And you didn’t even give me a choice.
Minho didn’t back down, though his eyes grew even sadder.
— I didn’t want to hurt you. I did it because you needed it. I didn’t think that… that you would react like this. Jisung, I… I just couldn’t sit back while your life was in danger.
Jisung exhaled and looked at Minho, though he tried to avoid his gaze.
— Do you think I wouldn’t have been able to handle it? Why didn’t you ask me? Why didn’t you give me a choice? You had no right, Minho. You had no right to decide for me.
Minho seemed taken aback, but he didn’t step away.
— I didn’t want to hurt you, Jisung. I did it because… I couldn’t lose you. And I thought this was… the right thing to do.
Silence hung between them, and even though they stood close, the distance between them felt more profound than ever.
Jisung felt his heart clench again. His words, his expression—everything was filled with emotions he couldn’t untangle. Anger, resentment, unbearable pain… and at the same time, the feeling that he was losing something that might have been important.
— You don’t understand, — Jisung said, his voice barely above a whisper. — You think you did this for me, — his voice tightened. — Or did you just need to feel like the good guy, knowing I’d be in your debt?
Minho fell silent, not knowing what to say. He wanted to explain, wanted Jisung to understand, but he knew this wasn’t just about words anymore. This wasn’t just about his actions. It was about his feelings—feelings Jisung couldn’t grasp.
Jisung stood up, turning away and walking off without another word.
— Leave me alone, — he said as he walked away, not looking back.
Minho stood still, as if deep in thought, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to bring things back to how they were, but he understood that there were too many barriers between them now—barriers neither of them could easily break.
...
A few days had passed since their conversation in the cafeteria, and Jisung felt boredom slowly but surely creeping into his life. It was strange. He had never been apart from Minho for this long. Usually, they were always together, always making time for each other no matter what was happening in their lives. But now, he was alone, and the emptiness felt much stronger than he had imagined.
Evenings were the hardest. He lay on his bed, hugging his pillow, unable to understand why he felt so irresistibly drawn to someone who now felt so far away. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could almost sense Minho’s presence—the familiar voice, the laughter, even just his gaze. It was so familiar, so natural. But now, everything had changed, and Jisung didn’t know how to deal with it.
He kept thinking about what had happened. Why hadn’t Minho asked him before making such an important decision? Jisung felt his anger and resentment slowly fading, leaving behind a lingering emptiness—a mix of exhaustion, regret, and something else he couldn’t quite name yet.
His thoughts kept circling back to the same memories. Minho had always been there, always cared for him. Even in the smallest things. Like when they shared a pizza, Minho always left the last slice for him. It was a small but meaningful gesture. He knew Jisung was hungry, but he never wanted him to feel guilty for eating more than he should. Every little thing Minho did carried warmth and consideration. And even now, after making a decision for him, Jisung couldn’t deny that there was always a special kind of kindness in Minho’s actions.
Minho always put others before himself. Even if it meant sacrificing something important.
Jisung clutched his pillow tighter, closing his eyes. A new wave of emotions washed over him—emotions he hadn’t expected to feel. He was starting to realize just how much Minho meant to him. This wasn’t just friendship. It was something more. Like soulmates.
Minho had always been like that—selfless, caring. He gave everything he could without expecting anything in return. He had even given up his health for Jisung. It wasn’t an easy decision. Jisung knew that. But now he was beginning to understand that maybe Minho had always been ready to do something like this for him. And that was… too much.
Jisung sighed and turned onto his side again, trying to find a comfortable position. But his thoughts wouldn’t let him go. He was starting to understand just how important Minho was to him—and why his absence hurt so much. It hurt that he couldn’t turn to him and just talk like before. It hurt that they couldn’t go back to those simple days when everything felt natural and right.
He was slowly realizing that his feelings for Minho were becoming more complicated. There was something else. Undefined yet vivid, painful yet undeniable. Jisung felt it awakening inside him—it wasn’t just gratitude or attachment. It was something deeper.
He clutched the pillow in his hands again, as if trying to comfort himself with the gesture. His body felt empty, but his heart held onto tiny sparks of hope. Hope that maybe, one day, they could return to what they once were.
Jisung closed his eyes again, thinking about what he was missing.
Minho.
Still Minho.
Always Minho.
And maybe, at that moment, he finally understood that his feelings weren’t just a result of Minho’s selfless actions. They were something far more complex.
...
Jisung stood in front of Minho’s door for a long time, unable to knock. His heart pounded in his chest. He had thought everything through, his emotions had settled into place, but the words still wouldn’t come.
He had known for a while that he needed to talk to Minho. But now, standing here, he wasn’t sure he was ready.
When Minho opened the door, Jisung immediately noticed how exhausted he looked. His face was drawn, as if he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were clouded, his shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. Jisung felt something painfully familiar in that expression—the same restless, hidden pain he himself had been struggling with all this time.
— Hey, — Jisung said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Minho stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come in. Jisung walked in, unsure of how to begin. He knew he needed to speak, to lay everything out, but the words refused to come.
They sat down on the couch. Minho remained silent while Jisung felt the tight grip of tension in his chest. Minho had never been someone who openly talked about his emotions. He had always been there, always supportive, always knowing what Jisung needed without a single word. But now, Jisung realized Minho was trapped in a cage of his own making.
Jisung took a deep breath and decided to start.
— You’ve always been so attentive to me... Always knew when I was struggling and were there, even when I didn’t ask. You always took care of me. You cooked when I was sad, you held the umbrella when it rained, you stayed by my side even through my worst teenage years, when I was just an annoying mess of emotions. I know you keep a lot inside, but I never thought you would go this far—to make such sacrifices for me.
Minho froze. His face paled, and he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. He didn’t know what to say, and his heart started racing.
Jisung continued, his eyes never leaving Minho.
— You’ve always been like this. Caring, attentive, always ready to support others. But this… this is too much. You sacrificed your health and your life! What if something had gone wrong? How would I have lived with that? This is too much, Minho. You can’t do this. You shouldn’t have done it. You didn’t have to. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide it from me? — Jisung’s voice trembled on the verge of hysteria.
Minho felt a heavy weight growing in his chest, as if all warmth was draining from him. He knew Jisung was upset, but he hadn’t expected his words to be so strong. He had always thought he was doing the right thing, following his instincts, fulfilling his duty as a friend. But now, hearing Jisung say this, he suddenly realized how different it actually was.
— Hannie… — Minho started softly, but the words got stuck in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, how to justify himself. He was afraid that now Jisung would think he was crazy, that his care and love were only making things worse.
Jisung couldn’t take it anymore—he stood up and started pacing around the room, trying to calm down. He could feel the anger building up, but at the same time, his heart ached. He had spent so much time thinking about Minho, worrying about the fact that he could have lost him forever, that this whole situation could have destroyed them.
— You can’t do this, Minho. You shouldn’t have done it, not even for me! You were always there, always the person I could rely on. But you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself for me… — his voice cracked as he fought back tears.
Minho remained silent. He couldn’t justify himself. Any explanation would feel empty, and he knew that Jisung might never fully understand. He was afraid that their relationship would never be the same again.
Jisung, realizing that his words might have hurt Minho, suddenly stopped and looked at him. He understood that the anger and fear he felt could destroy everything they had built over the years. Lowering his gaze, he sat down in the armchair.
— I’m sorry, — Jisung said more quietly. — I had to say this because I was worried. But I understand now… You did it because you love me. And it’s hard for me to accept that because I never wanted you to sacrifice yourself. I wouldn’t want you to do that for me.
Minho sighed, unsure of what to say. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice Jisung looking at him again.
— I realized it too late, but now I understand how important you are to me. But you shouldn’t have done this. You deserve to be happy, without sacrifices, without all of this. You shouldn’t have hidden it from me.
Minho looked at him with wide eyes, his face showing a mix of surprise, confusion, and fear. He didn’t know what to do with this truth that had just spilled out.
— I’m sorry, Jisung… I… I just wanted you to be okay. I didn’t think that everything would be like this.
Jisung nodded quietly, then stood up and stepped closer to Minho. Wordlessly, he reached out and placed a gentle hand on Minho’s shoulder.
— I understand, Minho. I care about you too. But please, don’t sacrifice yourself for me anymore. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. You’re too important to me.
Jisung reached out and, without a word, tucked a strand of Minho’s hair behind his ear. He looked into his eyes, and in that moment, as their gazes met, Minho froze. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He couldn’t believe that Jisung had actually said those words. He couldn’t believe that the person he had loved for so long had finally understood.
— You… you love me too? — Minho whispered, unable to trust his own ears.
Jisung smiled, his voice soft but firm.
— Yes. I love you, Minho. I always have.
Minho felt a heavy wave of relief fill his chest. They remained silent for a few more moments, but in that silence, everything that needed to be said was already there.
Jisung stared into Minho’s glistening eyes for a few seconds. His heart was pounding so loudly it felt like it might leap out of his chest. He could feel the tension that had hung between them slowly starting to fade, but there was still that lingering fear—that maybe, just maybe, he might lose everything they had. This moment was so fragile that Jisung couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He couldn’t afford to let doubt take over.
Minho stood in front of him, his head slightly bowed, and Jisung realized they were both at the edge of something uncertain. They remained silent, but it wasn’t a heavy silence—it was fragile, as if both were trying to understand what came next. Minho’s gaze dropped to Jisung’s lips, red from unshed tears, and Jisung suddenly felt warmth spreading through his body. He couldn’t stay in this state of uncertainty any longer.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and gently traced his fingers along Minho’s jaw, as if seeking permission. Minho didn’t pull away—on the contrary, his eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn’t move. Jisung, feeling the warmth of Minho’s skin beneath his touch, slowly leaned in closer.
— Minho… — he whispered, unable to say anything more, because everything that needed to be said had already been spoken. He was ready. Ready to act, ready to accept this. All his doubts disappeared the moment he looked into Minho’s eyes.
Jisung, unable to hold back any longer, rose onto his toes. His hands trembled slightly as he leaned in. He pressed a delicate kiss to the corner of Minho’s lips—light, fleeting, yet filled with meaning. It was more than just a kiss—it was a confession that had been waiting for its moment. And when he felt Minho’s breath hitch in surprise, Jisung didn’t pull away. He traced his lips gently over Minho’s, cautious, as if silently asking for forgiveness for all the words he had never said before.
Minho froze, his breathing becoming heavy and uneven, but he didn’t pull away. And when Jisung leaned in again to kiss him, this time, he felt Minho reaching for him too. The kiss deepened—soft, unhurried, yet full.
Feeling his warmth, Jisung slowly pulled away from Minho’s lips, but he didn’t step back. His gaze was filled with an indescribable tenderness and understanding.
— I love you, Minho, — he whispered, almost inaudibly, just for the two of them to hear.
Minho realized that everything had changed now. What he had once only dreamed of had finally become reality, and he couldn’t hold back a small smile. Jisung was here, and it was no longer just his own longing—it was their shared choice.