Chapter Text
For nine years, Pio had lived with questions no one was willing to answer. Now that he finally knew the truth, there was only one person he needed to see.
For as long as he could remember, Pio had suspected that his mother was involved in what had happened to Jeongyo. There had been too many things that never made sense, too many details surrounding that day that his mother had refused to explain. But suspicion was different from knowing the truth, and Pio had spent years trying to convince himself that he was wrong. He didn't want to believe that the person who had raised him could have been responsible for taking Jeongyo away and ruining the life of the person he loved most.
Now, after all these years, he finally knew.
His mother had been behind the abduction. She had arranged for Jeongyo to be taken away, which led to the accident that left him injured, prevented him from competing, and eventually caused him to disappear from Pio's life for nine years.
The truth was devastating, not only because of what had happened to Jeongyo, but because Pio had spent all those years carrying the suspicion alone. A part of him had always feared that this was the truth, and now that his worst fear had been confirmed, he couldn't stop thinking about how different everything might have been if he had known sooner.
Pio could barely look at himself without feeling guilty.
What hurt even more was knowing that Jeongyo had already figured it out himself. He had been investigating quietly behind Pio's back and had deliberately kept his distance after discovering the truth. His hatred had never been real. Jeongyo had been trying to protect him, knowing that if they remained close, Pio could be used against him.
But Pio didn't know that.
All he had seen for weeks was the person he had spent nine years searching for pushing him away. He had tried to understand it, tried to convince himself that Jeongyo simply needed time, but after learning the truth, he could no longer keep everything inside.
He needed to explain.
He needed Jeongyo to know that he had never known what his mother had done. He needed to explain that if he had known, he would have done everything he could to stop it. There were so many things he wanted to tell him, things he had kept to himself for years, and he knew that if he didn't say them now, he might never get another chance.
After thinking about it for most of the night, Pio finally decided to go to Jeongyo's place the following morning. He didn't know how Jeongyo would react or whether he would even listen, but he couldn't stay home knowing that there were still so many things left unsaid between them.
When he arrived, Pio stood outside Jeongyo's door for a moment, trying to gather the courage to knock. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say several times on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of the door, every word seemed to disappear from his mind. He took a quiet breath before finally raising his hand and knocking.
There was no answer at first.
Pio waited for a few seconds before knocking again, this time a little louder. He heard movement from inside, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. His heart began beating faster as the door finally opened.
Jeongyo stood on the other side.
For a brief moment, neither of them said anything. Pio had hoped that seeing him again would somehow make things easier, but the expression on Jeongyo's face immediately told him otherwise.
Jeongyo looked at him for only a second before his expression hardened. He seemed ready to close the door again.
“Jeongyo,” Pio called quietly, stopping him. “Please. I just want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Pio followed him inside anyway. “I didn't know. I swear I didn't know what my mother had done. If I had known—”
“If you had known what?” Jeongyo interrupted. “You would have stopped her?”
“Yes.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Pio looked at him, his voice becoming more desperate. “Jeongyo, I would never have let her do that to you. You know me.”
Jeongyo's jaw tightened.
That was precisely the problem. He did know Pio. He knew him well enough to know that Pio was telling the truth, and that made it even harder to push him away. But he also knew that as long as Pio remained beside him, there was a chance his family would find another way to hurt them both.
Jeongyo turned around, and before Pio could say anything else, he pushed him away.
Pio stumbled backward, completely caught off guard.
“Don't come near me.”
“Jeongyo…”
“I said I don't want to see you.”
Jeongyo's voice was harsher than he intended. He had spent so long trying to keep his distance because he believed it was the only way to protect Pio, but seeing him standing there and hearing him try to explain everything made it harder to maintain the wall he had built.
So he said the things he knew would hurt him.
“You keep coming here and asking me to listen to you as if that is supposed to change anything. It doesn't. I don't care whether you knew or not. Your family did this to me, and you're part of that family.”
“But I'm not them.”
“No,” Jeongyo said. “This was all your fault.”
The words made Pio's face fall.
Jeongyo almost stopped there. He could see how much it hurt him, and for a second, he wanted to take it back. Instead, he reminded himself why he was doing this.
“I hate seeing you,” he said. “Every time you come near me, I think about everything I lost. It makes me sick. I don't want to see your face. I don't want you asking me to forgive you. I don't want you following me around anymore.”
Pio stood there quietly, listening to every word.
Jeongyo could see the hurt on his face, but he forced himself to continue. He thought that if he pushed Pio away hard enough, Pio would finally leave and stay away from him long enough for Jeongyo to figure everything out. He would find a way to deal with his family, and once Pio was safe, he would explain everything and make things right between them.
What he didn't realize was that Pio had already been holding himself together by a thread.
“This was all your fault.”
The words Jeongyo had said earlier kept repeating in Pio's head as he walked away.
And perhaps it really was.
His entire life had been tied to a family that had hurt the person he loved most. Even though he had never known what his mother had done, it didn't change what had happened to Jeongyo. Pio had spent nine years waiting for him, believing that one day they would find each other again, only to discover that Jeongyo had returned carrying wounds Pio could never undo.
He walked out of Jeongyo’s place and stopped outside.
He didn't know why he stayed there. Perhaps some part of him was still hoping that Jeongyo would come after him, that the door would open and Jeongyo would call his name. But nothing happened.
Pio stood there for a long time before finally taking a music booklet from his bag. It was the same booklet Jeongyo had given him before disappearing from his life for almost a decade, the one Pio had kept close to his heart all these years. He had written something on the page, putting down the things he could no longer bring himself to say out loud.
He crouched down and slowly slid the booklet underneath the door. He waited for a moment, staring at it through the narrow gap, before finally standing up and walking away.
Jeongyo didn't notice it at first.
It was only nearly ten minutes later, while he was still inside trying to calm himself down, that he noticed the edge of the booklet beneath the door. He picked it up without thinking, but the moment he saw his name written on the first page, he realized what it was.
“I’ve already memorized everything. Take it if you need it!”
He read the words on the first page before slowly turning to the next.
There, he found Pio’s letter.
The first line immediately made his chest ache.
Thank you for playing with me.
Jeongyo continued reading.
I'm sorry I couldn't be there to protect you when you needed me.
You were right. It was all my fault. I'm sorry for being selfish.
I was the happiest when I was with you. I was so happy that for a while, I forgot what it was like to feel unwanted.
I think I got too used to having you beside me, and perhaps that was the worst part, because I don't know if I can face a life where you hate me.
So forgive me if I’d be selfish again this time
I'm sorry for leaving you behind for nine years, and I’m sorry I’m leaving you again.
Goodbye, Choi Jeongyo.
The boy I once loathed, then grudgingly respected, and eventually loved.
Jeongyo read the final line several times.
His hands began to shake as the meaning of the letter finally reached him. He thought about the way Pio had looked at him before leaving, the way he had quietly accepted every cruel word without defending himself. He remembered the nine years Pio had spent searching for him and all the things Pio had endured simply because he had wanted his best friend back.
And now Jeongyo had been the one to tell him the worse.
Tears began running down his face.
“What have I done?”
He immediately reached for his phone and called Pio, but there was no answer. He tried again, then again, but Pio's phone could no longer be reached.
The fear that had been building inside him finally took over.
Jeongyo grabbed his car keys and rushed outside. His car was parked in front of the hotel where he was staying, and he barely noticed the people around him as he hurried toward it. He kept calling Pio as he walked, but there was still no response.
He got into the car and reached for the ignition.
Before he could start the engine, a loud thud came from somewhere behind him.
Jeongyo immediately turned around.
People had already begun gathering in the direction of the sound. Some were shouting, others were trying to call for an ambulance, and several people were standing around in shock. Jeongyo got out of the car and began walking toward them.
With every step, an uneasy feeling settled deeper in his chest.
He tried to convince himself that it had nothing to do with Pio. There was no reason it had to be him. Pio could have already gone somewhere else. He could still be at home. He could still answer his phone.
But when Jeongyo reached the crowd and saw what had happened, all those thoughts disappeared.
A man's body lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by broken pieces of glass. He had fallen onto the roof of a car, and from where Jeongyo stood, he could barely make out his face. There was something strangely familiar about him, but Jeongyo couldn't bring himself to believe it.
It was Pio.
For a few seconds, Jeongyo couldn't move. He simply stared at him, unable to accept what he was seeing. Then he pushed through the people around him and rushed to his side.
“Pio…”
He gathered him into his arms, his hands trembling as he held him close.
“Pio, please open your eyes.”
There was no response.
Jeongyo could feel the warmth still left in his body, and that made the reality even harder to accept. He had arrived only minutes too late. If he had noticed the letter sooner, if he had stopped Pio before he left, if he had chosen to tell him the truth instead of pushing him away, perhaps none of this would have happened.
“I’m sorry,” he kept saying as tears ran down his face. “I'm so sorry, Pio.”
He held him tighter, as though he could somehow keep him there if he refused to let go.
“This wasn't supposed to happen. I was going to come after you. I was going to explain everything.”
His voice broke as he looked at Pio's face.
“I don't hate you. I never hated you.”
But Pio could no longer hear him.
Jeongyo had spent nine years believing that he had lost his best friend. When he finally found him again, he had convinced himself that pushing him away was the only way to protect him. He had thought there would be time to explain everything once the danger had passed.
Instead, he had waited until it was too late.
And there, in Jeongyo's arms, lay Kang Pio, the boy who had spent his entire life longing for the love he was never given, except for the one person he had loved enough to keep searching for.
The one person who had finally found him again was now holding him for the last time.
Jeongyo lowered his head against Pio's shoulder and continued to cry, wishing he could take back every cruel word he had said only minutes before.
But Pio would never hear his apology.
And for the rest of his life, Jeongyo would have to live knowing that the last thing he had given the person he loved was the belief that he was never wanted.