Falling, Not Broken

Pain. That was all Daewon could feel.

A deep, pulsing ache spread through his limbs, ribs, and skull. The cold asphalt beneath him felt almost comforting compared to the sharp sting that ran through his body every time he moved. Every breath came with an intense reminder of the blows he had taken. His muscles cried out in pain, but he couldn't stop.

His fingers dug into the rough pavement as he dragged himself forward, inch by inch. His body refused to stand, his legs trembling beneath him like they no longer belonged to him. His mind was fuzzy, the world around was an unsteady blur of darkness and distant city lights. But one thought echoed louder than the pain: Go forward, move.

He bit his bottom lip, ignoring the taste of blood that covered his tongue. He had to get out of here. Lying in this filthy alley, beaten and injured, wasn't an option. He had made it this far... somehow, so he couldn't stop now.

"Pathetic."

The word rang in his head, Joon's voice filled with disgust. He had fought back this time. He had landed a punch. But in the end, it didn't change anything. He was still the one crawling, still the one left behind.

His vision flickered, his body shaking from the exhaustion that dug into him. The pain had faded into numbness, and a distant sensation, but it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. His arms wobbled as he tried to pull himself further, the rocks scraping against his palms. His breath was ragged, weak, and every inch he moved felt like it took an eternity.

"Why... am I still doing this?" he mumbled under his breath, barely recognizing his own voice. It was faint, uneven, nothing like the Daewon he wanted to be.

For what felt like forever, he kept crawling, dragging himself toward the entrance of the alley. The distant sound of traffic and footsteps felt like they belonged to a completely different world, a world where people walked freely, without fear of collapsing in the street.

His thoughts started to drift, slipping in and out of awareness.

Why did I even throw that punch? I should've known it wouldn't do anything.

I need to be stronger... I need to stop being so damn weak, I'm tired of being a coward...

But... what if this is all I am? What if I can't change anything.

The thought stung more than the wounds covering his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his grip on his arm as another wave of dizziness washed over him.

Then, suddenly...

"Daewon?"

The voice snapped him back to reality. His head snapped slightly, but his body refused to react any further. His vision blurred as he slowly lifted his gaze.

A figure stood at the entrance of the alley, shadowed by the street lights behind him. It took Daewon a second to identify the face, but even in his dazed state, he recognized him.

It was his only and closest friend, Seojun.

His expression shifted from confusion to concern in an instant. "Holy shit, Daewon!"

Daewon barely recognized the sound of hurried footsteps before a strong pair of arms grabbed him. His instincts told him to struggle, but his body was too weak to obey.

"Hey, what the hell happened to you?!" Seojun's voice was sharp, desperate, but Daewon couldn't find the strenght to answer.

"Come on, I need to get you out of here."

Before Daewon could even process what was happening, without hesitation, Seojun lifted him onto his back to carry him. His body tensed at the sudden movement, a sharp pain erupting through his ribs, but he didn't fight it. He didn't have the energy to.

"Where do you live?" Seojun asked, his tone steady but controlled.

Daewon let out a weak breath. "Go... left."

Seojun adjusted his grip on him and took off down the street, his pace quick but careful. "How the hell did you end up like this?"

Daewon hesitated. His lips felt dry and cracked. "It was Joon."

Seojun's jaw tightened. "That bastard again? Is he ever gonna pay for his actions?"

Daewon nodded slightly, his head resting on Seojun's shoulder. "Tried to fight back... didn't go really well."

"Well no shit," Seojun muttered. "You look like you got run over."

Daewon then let out a short, dry chuckle, but it turned into a grimace. "Feels like it too."

They walked in silence for a moment, Seojun following Daewon's mumbled directions as they moved through the dimly lit streets. The world felt distant, like Daewon was floating between consciousness and unconsciousness. His body was in pain, but something about Seojun carrying him, about not having to crawl anymore, made it easier to breathe.

"Why didn't you call someone?" Seojun asked after a while.

"Who was I supposed to call, and even if I did, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. I didn't think anyone would come because I don't have any other friends, except you..."

Seojun exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Daewon didn't argue.

The walk to his house felt endless. Every second stretched as he fought to keep his eyes open, the weight of exhaustion was threatening to pull him under.

Then, finally, they reached his house.

Seojun adjusted Daewon on his back and knocked on the door. The firm, loud knocks echoed in the cool night air.

Seconds passed.

Then, the door swung open.

At the door, there was a familiar face. Wide eyes, a sudden gasp. It was Daewon's mom, Haejin Kim.

Her expression changed from confusion to horror in an instant.

"Daewon?! Oh my God... what happened?!"

Her voice was sharp, panic filled in every word.

Daewon tried to speak, but his throat felt dry. His vision started to become blurry again, his body was going slack against Seojun's shoulder.

The last thing he saw before everything went dark was his mother reaching for him, while her hands were trembling.