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The old, faded floor of the gym had been familiar to generations of Yangpyeong students, but about a month ago, it had been closed due to an accident. The basketball backboard, with its painted pale-orange ball and the crooked crack running through it, had deteriorated so badly that it collapsed during one of the PE classes. Only then did the school administration realize that the gym was no longer safe for students.
Baekjin didn't care. Even if the entire ceiling collapsed on him, that pain wouldn't compare to the anguish he was carrying inside. He'd crawled into the farthest corner he could find — right behind the shattered basketball backboard. Baekjin wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and buried his face in them. Occasional choked sobs escaped him, but the room was so quiet that Humin could hear them without any trouble.
For a moment, he paused at the gym entrance. Through the barred windows near the ceiling, reddish sunset rays streamed in. Dust hung suspended in the streams of light. Humin stepped forward, listening tensely to the silence. The sound of his footsteps echoed across the wooden parquet floor. The sobbing stopped.
"Baekjin," Humin called carefully, almost mumbling. "Please, listen... You can tell me to go away, but I really... I'm sorry. I don't know why they do this to you, but you don't deserve it! Do you want me to go kick their asses right now?"
Humin laughed nervously. Silence still hung in the air.
"I can't stand watching you suffer. I want to protect you! Baekjin... I know you have no reason to trust me. But I'm not lying."
Humin walked almost to the middle of the gym, a sharp anxiety gnawing at him.
"If you give me a chance... I can help," he faltered: tears rose to his throat. "I want to help. I hate... when you're in pain."
Tears rolled down his face like beads. Humin quickly wiped them away. He had to keep it together — he came to help, not to cry. He stopped, looked around, and tried again. This time, his voice was firmer and louder.
"I'll prove that I'm serious. I'll make them pay!"
Baekjin sat in the corner, silent. A stream of bright red blood ran down his leg, staining his sock. He hugged himself tighter, absorbing every word his classmate said.
"You know I was never one of them. I won't hurt you. Let me take you to the nurse's office — so no one even thinks of coming near you. I promise, I'll watch over you all the way home. Okay? I don't want you to be alone. I don't want you to suffer alone. I know what that's like!"
Humin fell silent, his head hung low. His shoulders slumped. He regretted never giving Baekjin a reason to trust him. What else had he expected after all this indifference? Despite his remorse, there was no forgiveness for him.
"Baekjin," Humin muttered again, looking down in shame. His bangs fell over his face, hiding the tears welling up in his eyes. He was a crybaby — he admitted it. And now he was crying at the worst possible time.
"I know I don't deserve your trust. I'm sorry for that. I'm no better than those bastards, always keeping silent," he bit his lip and almost shouted: "But I'm not going to stand by anymore! I'll make them beg for your forgiveness!"
"I don't need that..." came a hoarse mumble. Humin's heart leaped into his throat. His hearing sharpened. He spun his head around, searching for the boy, and spotted a shoe peeking out from behind the broken backboard. The paint on it was worn off. Humin exhaled slowly.
"Can I come closer?"
He barely managed to keep his voice from trembling. The shoe immediately disappeared behind the backboard. Humin didn't move: Baekjin hadn't answered. Heavy silence filled the room. Dust particles continued to float in the streams of sunlight.
"I'm sorry..."
Baekjin pulled his hands away from his face, staring ahead, and sniffled quietly. He wanted to believe Humin, but he couldn't. No one had ever been kind to him. No one had ever wanted to protect him. It was always a lie. And this time would be a lie too.
Baekjin stared blankly at his feet. Tears dripped onto the dirty parquet. He felt his body trembling as he tried to hold onto the belief that no one would help him. Because that was how it had always been.
Baekjin raised his hand to the left side of his face, but immediately yanked it back, as if shocked. He was afraid to see what his face had become, but the entire left side — from his hair to his chin — was burning unbearably. Blood was still dripping onto his knees. His palms were also covered in blood. He wiped them on his clothes — they were going to the trash anyway.
Baekjin waited for Humin to leave him alone and retreated deeper into the corner.
"You may not have done anything. But I don't believe you. Trust costs me too much."
He waited for the slam of the door as Humin left the gym. Now he could wallow in self-pity again.
"I knew it."
But after a while, shouts and dull thuds came from outside. Baekjin flinched violently.
"It's not them, is it?... It can't be them!"
He unconsciously crawled deeper under the backboard, trembling all over. A few more thuds rang out, and then silence.
"PARK HUMIN!!! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!!!"
Baekjin flinched again, hugging himself. He heard nothing more until the gym door burst open. An icy chill ran down Baekjin's spine.
"Baekjin."
His voice sounded like a lullaby after a month of sleepless nights. The boy's body relaxed. He stopped clutching his knees and let his arms fall limp at his sides.
"Baekjin. I did it!" Humin forced the words out. He was shaking, even though it wasn't cold at all. "Did I prove that I keep my word?"
Baekjin's heart tightened with conflicting emotions. He couldn't have moved or answered even if he'd wanted to.
They were silent for a long time. Humin stood with his back straight, proud. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the floor, quickly pooling. Baekjin hugged his knees tighter, pressing his chin to them.
He heard cautious footsteps, but for some reason, he wasn't afraid anymore. He just waited for Humin to appear in his field of vision.
And finally, he stood before him, making Baekjin's knees and heart tremble. The boy's smile warmed Baekjin — but only for a moment. Humin's expression darkened like a thundercloud. Naturally, the state he found his classmate in couldn't have provoked any other reaction. Tears rose to his throat again.
"I'm sorry..." Humin murmured, frozen two meters away. "I was late."
Baekjin looked at him with a swollen eye. The entire left side of his face was smeared with blood from scrapes. His left knee and shin were also stained. His clothes were soaked in blood.
It was painful to see. Horribly painful. Humin was afraid to move. He couldn't, anyway. He stood frozen like a statue, his gaze fixed on the boy — first in shock, then in pain.
"What in the world..."
His mouth fell open on its own because breathing had become impossible. Humin swallowed and took a hesitant step forward. To his relief, Baekjin remained motionless, and the unharmed side of his face didn't look frightened. It was a good start.
No, it was a good ending. Humin dropped to his knees in front of Baekjin and wrapped his arms around his shoulders with unbearable tenderness. Baekjin broke down. Tears streamed from his eyes again. Humin ran his fingers through his hair, gently massaging, soothing. He was on the edge himself, but he held it together for Baekjin's sake. For the sake of the wounded boy who had let him in, despite years of endless pain.
He didn't return the embrace, but he didn't run away. He just stayed still. That was better. Humin carefully held his shoulders with one hand while drawing circles on his back with the other, murmuring:
"I'll take care of you. You're not alone anymore."
His voice had never sounded so soft. And his hands had never trembled so much over something so fragile. Maybe because there had never been anything fragile in his hands before.
Baekjin's tears and blood stained all of Humin's clothes, but it didn't matter at all — not while he held that small, defenseless soul close to his heart, the one that had finally trusted him.