Chapter Text
The whirring fan of Soonyoung’s ancient PC (though that was an exaggeration) sounded like it was on its last breath, sputtering louder than the actual game soundtrack. His monitor flickered every few seconds, the FPS dipping so bad that even Paimon looked like she was stop-motion animated.
“It’s lagging again,” Soonyoung muttered, slamming the spacebar repeatedly as his Neuvilette barely dodged an enemy attack. “You’ve survived three midterms and two power outages; you can survive this domain.”
His room was lit only by the bluish glow of his monitor and the tiny lamp clamped to his desk. Crumpled ramen cups sat stacked like trophies beside his keyboard, and an old pororo band-aid wrapper clung stubbornly to his mousepad. The air smelled faintly of instant coffee and pain reliever oils.
It wasn’t the most glamorous set up, but it was his space. It was cramped, messy, and powered by the sheer will of a broke scholar trying to stay alive in college. Honestly, games and anime are the only things that kept him alive from all the bullshit life throws at him.
Soonyoung was halfway through the latest archon quest when his screen suddenly froze, blinked white, and then—
[6480 Genesis Crystals]
He blinked.
Once. Maybe twice.
Then leaned forward, squinting at the screen as if his near-sightedness was suddenly to blame. “...What?”
How come he got those Genesis Crystals. He couldn’t even afford a Battle pass, heck not even a Welkin. He can't spend money in game when he could barely afford rent and food.
He quickly checked his wallet, then his bank app, half expecting a notification screaming Payment Successful! But there was nothing. No mysterious charge which means no sudden financial doom.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he mumbled, frantically clicking through menus. “I didn’t buy anything. I didn’t even open the shop! I literally can’t even afford to open the shop!”
Before he could spiral further, a new message popped up in his in-game chat.
[Shiroishishi]: hey i saw your post on X earlier
[Shiroishishi]: u said u were having a bad day so i hope u dont mind
[Shiroishishi]: bought you some crystals so you could finally get nefer :)
Soonyoung just… stared at the message. He couldn't believe his eyes. So he stared at his screen. Then back at the chat.
“...No way,” he whispered with his jaw slack. “Who the hell just—? Dude, those crystals are like… real money. Like real real money.”
He glanced around his small dorm room as if someone might pop out of the shadows to yell “Surprise!” or “Gotcha!” But no one did. Just the sound of his dying CPU fan and his own confused breathing.
He typed hesitantly.
[HoshiTora]: wait wait WAIT
[HoshiTora]: you serious??
[HoshiTora]: bro that’s like 100$ wth 😭😭😭 Plus you have given me a lot of stuff before
The reply came quickly than he anticipated
[Shiroishishi]: dw abt it lol
[Shiroishishi]: just promise u’ll feel better this time
Soonyoung slumped back in his chair, a bit dazed, a little touched, and mostly horrified that a stranger (well, friend-ish stranger) had just spent that much on him.
He stared at the message a bit longer, then sighed with a soft laugh escaping his lips. “You crazy rich people are something else,” he muttered, shaking his head before clicking open the Wish screen.
The pity counter blinked at him, tauntingly close to 90.
“Well… might as well make it count.”
He cracked his knuckles, whispered a tiny prayer to the gacha gods, and hit Wish 10x.
—
The sound of a key turning in the front door blended in with the soft background music playing inside the dorm room.
What's the title of the song playing? Oh Homura by Lisa, Jihoon thought.
Jihoon stepped in, his guitar case slung lazily over his shoulder and strands of hair sticking slightly to his temple from the night air. The smell of cigarette smoke and liquor clung to his clothes, a byproduct of spending hours in a famous bar nearby the University, where he’d just finished a live set with his band.
It had been three years since he and Kwon Soonyoung became dormmates. Three years of polite exachanges of hellos and maybe some “good nights,” and the occasional exchange of colorful notes stuck to the fridge:
‘Used the last of the soy sauce. Will buy later.’
‘Delivery came. Left your package on the table.’
They weren’t cold to each other, it’s just that they barely interacted for more than half an hour. Though, Soonyoung attempted to become very close friends, it's mostly Jihoon who's avoiding him.
As Jihoon set his shoes aside, a light from the hallway caught his eye. Soonyoung’s door was slightly ajar, the narrow opening revealing a sliver of the other’s world. He decided to peek inside and his gaze automatically lingered longer than its supposed to be.
Soonyoung sat cross-legged on his worn out swivel chair, dude couldn't afford a gaming chair. He's completely absorbed in The Apothecary Diaries, the manga held close to his face as he also held a serious expression. Which made Jihoon’s lips curved a little.
He’d always thought Soonyoung looked like the definition of harmless. The kind of guy who apologizes even when he isn’t at fault, who collects cute band aids, obsesses over fictional characters and somehow manages to trip on flat surfaces.
Seeing him like this, so focused with that faint furrow between his brows, Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle before he turned toward his own room.
“He’s really cute,” he muttered under his breath.
He pushed his door open and flicked the light switch, greeted by his small and organized room, far from what he used to have in his family mansion. Notebooks stacked neatly on one side, music sheets arranged on the other, and an entire corner dedicated to his guitars. Seven of them, all polished and arranged like artwork. Jihoon gently placed the one from tonight onto its stand beside the others, brushing a thumb along the strings as if it's his child, tucking it in for the night.
“We’re done for today, Ruby,” he whispered while smiling faintly. “Good job.”
He sat down on the edge of his bed, rolling his shoulders, the day’s exhaustion catching up to him. From the other side of the thin wall, he could hear faint game music again.
Seriously, he's not gonna sleep yet?
—
Jihoon woke up to the sound of someone rummaging.. uh something?
He stretched, winced at the soreness in his shoulders from carrying his guitar around all day yesterday, then dragged himself out of bed. His hair stuck out in awkward directions, but he didn’t bother fixing it. It was too early, and he wasn’t trying to impress anyone in the dorm. He stepped out into the living area, yawning wide and nearly walked straight into Soonyoung.
The man was crouched by the fridge, rummaging through the vegetable compartment like it owed him money. His hair was messy too, sticking up like he’d rolled out of bed and straight into a survival mission. His oversized hoodie (the one that swallowed half his body) is slightly hunched up and his glasses were crooked.
Jihoon silently stared and observed the other man.
Soonyoung who’s still unaware of Jihoon’s presence, pulled out a half-wilted bunch of spinach, looked at it, then sighed in defeat. “No good too,” he muttered under his breath.
Jihoon’s lips twitched. “Morning.”
Soonyoung jumped hard enough that the spinach almost flew across the room. “J-Jihoon—! Uh—morning!” He scrambled to stand upright before he accidentally bumped to the fridge door with his knee. “Ay-Ouch—I-I didn’t hear you wake up.”
Jihoon raised a brow. “Clearly.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Which turned the atmosphere a bit awkward.
Soonyoung cleared his throat. “You want breakfast? I, uh… I was gonna make egg fried rice. I can make extra.”
Jihoon blinked. It wasn’t the first time Soonyoung offered to cook, but it was rare enough that Jihoon still found it unexpectedly… nice.
“Sure,” he said lightly. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t! I— It's fine. Totally fine.” Soonyoung waved his hands then winced the moment his sleeve slipped back.
Jihoon’s eyes squinted instantly. A faint bruise painted the skin just above Soonyoung’s wrist, hidden enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Jihoon wasn’t most people. He noticed things.
“Did you injure yourself?” Jihoon asked.
Soonyoung froze. His hand hastily tugged the sleeve down. He laughed nervously. “Ah, this? Nah! Just… bumped into the table yesterday.”
Jihoon knew a lie when he heard one. But he wasn’t the type to push.
“Careful next time,” he said instead.
Soonyoung blinked, surprised by the gentleness of his dormmate. “Y-Yeah. I will.”
Jihoon opened the electric kettle and filled it with water, watching Soonyoung shuffle around the kitchen, trying (and failing) to hide the slight stiffness in his movements.
Weird, Jihoon thought.
From the other side of the kitchen, Soonyoung finally spoke again.
“By the way, Ji, how was your gig?”
Jihoon blinked. It was the first time Soonyoung ever asked.
“It went fine,” Jihoon answered. “The crowd was good.”
“Oh.” Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, “Congrats.”
Jihoon’s chest warmed in a way he didn’t expect. He wasn’t used to his roommate bringing up that topic. More accurately… he wasn’t used to this roommate noticing him at all.
“Thanks,” he replied.
They went back to their own tasks. Jihoon making coffee, Soonyoung singing Unravel under his breath while beating eggs in a bowl.
Minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the scent of garlic and toasted rice as Soonyoung moved around the stove, still wearing that oversized hoodie that hid half of him. All the while, Jihoon leaned against the counter, quietly sipping his coffee, watching the scene unfold with curiosity.
He wasn’t trying to stare. But something about Soonyoung felt different this morning.
“Did you sleep at all?” Jihoon asked casually. Trying his best to keep his voice neutral.
Soonyoung tensed for a split second before forcing a light laugh. “I… might’ve gotten carried away reading last night.”
Jihoon hummed. “Apothecary Diaries again?”
“Yeah.” His eyes brightened just a little. “I just… like it. The plot was so good.”
Then Soonyoung let out a forced laugh and smile again. He didn’t comment on it, though.
When the frying pan hissed, Soonyoung stirred the rice, wincing almost imperceptibly when he lifted the pan with his injured wrist. Jihoon caught it. Soonyoung obviously flinched, the quick exhale and the attempt to hide it but again, he said nothing.
He simply walked over. Held out a bowl to offer some help to the taller. “Here.”
Soonyoung blinked and was a bit startled. “Oh— you don’t have to—”
“It’s faster,” Jihoon said simply.
A small and genuine smile tugged at Soonyoung’s lips. “Thanks Ji.”
Afterwards, they sat opposite each other at their tiny dining table, eating quietly. Halfway through the meal, Jihoon finally asked, “Are you really okay?”
Soonyoung froze once again with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Y-Yeah. Why?”
“You just seem… off,” Jihoon said, choosing his words carefully. “You look tired. And your wrist.”
Soonyoung swallowed hard as his eyes darted away. “It’s nothing. Really. Just clumsy, as usual.”
Jihoon didn’t push but he didn’t believe him either. But he guess he’ll let it pass for now.
—
After breakfast, they quickly went to their own routines and went to their own classes as well. Jihoon returned earlier than usual, his guitar case slung over one shoulder. When he opened the door he paused.
From down the hallway, there were sounds coming from Soonyoung’s room. A thud which was followed by a sharp exhale. Then another series of rhythmic heavy impacts.
Jihoon frowned. Those weren’t the usual typing noises. Those weren’t gaming sounds. Which were the typical noises you could hear out of Soonyoung's room. And Soonyoung wasn’t clumsy enough to bump into furniture in a perfect rhythm over and over again. He hasn't heard those before..Maybe because he always comes home so late before. It’s only until recently he was able to come home earlier than he used to.
He stepped closer with his brows slightly furrowed. The door was closed this time, shut tight with no sliver of light.
Jihoon’s fingers curled around the strap of his guitar.
“…What are you doing in there?” he murmured almost to himself.
Something about Kwon Soonyoung didn’t add up. He simply stood there for a moment, listening, trying to piece together a puzzle he cannot simply decipher.
—
Saturday afternoons were usually predictable for Jihoon. Practice with the band, school works or papers he needs to finish, a quick visit at the gym, maybe a walk around campus with music blasting in his ears. So when his phone rang that afternoon with Wonwoo’s name flashing on the screen, he had no idea his night was about to derail entirely.
“Jihoon, please come with me,” Wonwoo begged the moment Jihoon answered.
Jihoon pressed a hand against his forehead. “I’m literally on my way home. Can’t this wait?”
“Nope,” Wonwoo said “If I don’t go tonight I will miss a chance, ”
Jihoon let out a long suffering sigh. “Chance for what?”
“To see Mingyu.”
Jihoon blinked. “Who?”
“Mingyu. That Mingyu,” Wonwoo hissed, as if Jihoon should already know. “The underground kickboxer I told you about. The one I like… the one with shoulders so broad I want to live on them.”
“Oh my god,” Jihoon muttered. “You’re insane.”
“Please Jihoon.” Wonwoo sounded miserable. “There’s no one else who can come with me. Jun’s busy, Hao won’t answer my texts—”
Jihoon lifted his head at that.
“—and Jeonghan said underground fighting rings stress him out,” Wonwoo finished.
Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose. He had so many questions, but asking any of them would mean engaging with Wonwoo’s madness. To be honest, when he first met his friend he didn’t know he has this side, he thought he’s just a quiet aloof man, turns out he can also be freaky at times.
Still, he found himself saying, “Fine. One hour.”
Wonwoo gasped like he’d been saved by the heavens. “You’re the best Ji ever. I’ll pick you up!”
—
On the way, the car ride was filled with Wonwoo ranting about this Mingyu dude. Jihoon regretted saying yes almost instantly. Cuz Jihoon literally give 0 fucks about the dude. He just let his friend friend gush though not until something came across his mind.
“Wonwoo,” he interrupted finally, “is this… legal?”
Wonwoo hesitated.
“…Define legal.”
“Wonwoo.”
“It’s safe!” Wonwoo insisted. “And they take care of injuries. Mostly. Anyway, you’ll love it!”
“I highly doubt that.”
But Wonwoo was already pulling them into a dark alley behind an abandoned warehouse. Music pulsed through the walls. It was bass-heavy. It looks exactly the kind of place Jihoon would normally avoid.
Wonwoo clapped him on the shoulder. “Jihoon, welcome to The Pit!”
“…I hate it here already.”
But he followed Wonwoo inside. The deeper they walked, the hotter the air became. People crowded shoulder-to-shoulder, cheering, exchanging bets, and shouting names. Neon lights flickered from overhead fixtures.
Wonwoo grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t judge, okay? It’s not as bad as it looks— OH MY GOD THERE HE IS.”
Jihoon nearly choked. It’s his first time witnessing with his very own eyes this energetic and loud version of Wonwoo. If he told their friends about this they'll probably wont believe him unless there's like a video evidence.
Wonwoo practically launched himself against the railing of the viewing area. Below them, in the center of the ring, stood a tall and broad-shouldered guy stretching his arms and rolling his neck.
“That’s Mingyu,” Wonwoo whispered dreamily with his eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Jihoon glanced up. The guy was— yeah. Big and uh handsome? Looks like someone sculpted thoroughly by God. Not Jihoon's cup of tea though.
“He looks like he eats people,” Jihoon muttered.
“Exactly!” Wonwoo gushed. "And I'd let him eat me!"
That made Jihoon wanna choke once more. Never in his life would imagine Wonwoo would ever say that. Jihoon’s eyes traveled around the arena, taking everything in.
There were fighters warming up in the corners. A referee adjusting gears. People fighting over their bets. Then someone caught his attention but before he could take a better look Wonwoo already held onto his wrist tightly.
That couldn’t be Soonyoung, right?
“Ji, let’s move closer!” Wonwoo pulled him along without waiting. Jihoon stumbled after him, still trying to wrap his head around what he saw. But before he could think deeper, the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena.
“Next match: Mingyu vs… White Tiger!”
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Jihoon’s eyebrow lifted. “White Tiger?”
“It’s a codename,” Wonwoo explained. “He’s one of the best fighters here but super mysterious. No one’s ever seen his face.”
Jihoon leaned against the railing beside him, watching as Mingyu bounced on his toes, ready for the fight.
Then the lights dimmed and the crowd’s roar rose like a wave. A figure walked out from the opposite side of the ring. Hood up.
Jihoon’s breath caught for reasons he couldn’t explain when the fighter stepped into the light And for the briefest second, Jihoon saw a familiar oversized hoodie before the man lifted it up and removed it from his body to go topless. His face however is still covered with a tiger mask of some sort.
No way. No. Absolutely no way.
The referee stepped forward, raising the fighter’s hand.
“White Tiger!”
The fighter gave a small nod as Jihoon’s heart stumbled. That tilt of the head, the posture and the way his fingers twitched. Jihoon recognized every bit of it. What made him conclude that his suspicions were true was the birthmark on the man’s waist. He whispered under his breath, almost in disbelief, “…Soonyoung?”
His voice was swallowed by the screaming crowd. But his chest tightened with a certainty he couldn't ignore.
Kwon Soonyoung. His clumsy and nerdy roommates was White Tiger.
The arena roared as the fighters raised their fists. And Jihoon, frozen in place, could only watch as realization hit him.
The moment the bell rang, Soonyoung moved. And oh boy he was fast. Not the clumsy and stumbling steps that Jihoon saw every day in their dorm. Mingyu threw the first punch, a heavy hook meant to intimidate.
Soonyoung slipped under it smoothly like water. The crowd erupted due to that move.
Every movement of his was clean and so fluid. His footwork even barely made a sound.
Jihoon felt his heartbeat quicken.
Mingyu swung again, faster this time, but Soonyoung blocked, twisted, and countered with two quick strikes to the ribs. Mingyu staggered.
Wonwoo screamed in horror. “NO—MY BABY—”
Jihoon didn’t hear him. He still can’t fathom that Inside that ring was the same person as his roommate…His nerdy roommate who apologize for the smallest things.
Mingyu charged again, desperate to regain momentum, but Soonyoung ducked and delivered a spinning back kick so fluid, Jihoon almost didn’t see it until Mingyu was already thrown against the corner.
The crowd lost their minds. Jihoon’s hands gripped the railing so tightly his knuckles paled.
Then came the finishing blow. Mingyu tried one last swing. Soonyoung stepped into his guard. One kick that was brutal and crossed straight to the jaw. Mingyu automatically dropped.
The referee rushed in. The bell rang and he announced the winner.
Soonyoung didn’t celebrate even the crowds were roaring with excitement. He simply stepped back, breathing hard and head lowered as if he didn’t want the spotlight.
Wonwoo was losing his mind beside him.
“Jihoon—Mingyu—he’s—he’ll be okay, right? Jihoon?? Why aren’t you answering?! Did you see that?! Did you—”
Jihoon finally spoke, “…Yeah. I saw.”
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the ring. Soonyoung stood there at the side drinking water, his naked chest rising and falling under the wraps and sweat and god he has abs??? Every inch of him contradicts the harmless persona he wore in the university or at their own dorm.
He had lived with this person for three years.
Three years and he never noticed the truth hiding under those baggy sweaters and thick glasses. He’d assumed the band-aids were from clumsiness. He’d assumed the hoodie swallowed him because he was small.
He had been wrong. So, so wrong.
Wonwoo tugged his arm. “Come on—let’s go check on Mingyu—”
But Jihoon barely heard him as he removed Wonwoo's grip from his arm and soon before he realize if Wonwoo's calls for his name drowned with background noise. He followed the crowd toward the hallway behind the arena, where fighters exited toward the locker room. A medic brushed past carrying ice packs. Someone shouted for tape and bandages. And there, just ahead was the figure he couldn’t stop staring at.
Every instinct told him to turn back, to pretend he didn’t see, to go home and forget. But he couldn’t move.
Because it’s as if… for the first time, he was seeing Soonyoung.. The real Soonyoung.
Jihoon still can’t believe those defined muscles Jihoon had never imagined existed under all that fabric. Afterall, he never saw Soonyoung go to the gym like him. And that made Jihoon feel heat creep up his neck.
He took a small step closer. Soonyoung reached up and pulled off his gloves, his fingers trembling slightly from adrenaline. Jihoon’s eyes caught the faint marks on his wrist, the same bruise he’d seen the other morning.
It made sense now.
“Soonyoung…” he whispered, unheard in the noise around them.
The fighter didn’t look up. He just disappeared into the locker room.
Jihoon stood frozen, heartbeat loud in his ears.
He had come here because Wonwoo needed moral support. What he found… was the truth about the boy he’d been living with for years.
—
Soonyoung didn’t even hear the crowd chanting his alias. The moment his fist and hjs foot connected with the other guy’s jaw, everything blurred.
With one final blow, the opponent went down. Someone lifted Soonyoung’s arm, declaring him the winner, but he barely reacted. He only gave his usual shy half-smile under the mask, as if embarrassed by the noise.
Tonight’s prize money would cover a month of groceries, maybe even a new mouse for his pc as little reward for himself if he waited for a sale.
He left the ring quietly, slipping into the back hallway where he finally breathed out. Looking from left to right to make sure no one followed him. He always made sure of that.
He didn’t know that someone had stood in the shadows of the stairwell, watching the entire match with blown-wide eyes.
Jihoon, who couldn’t believe that soonyoung, just knocked a man twice his size unconscious.
But Soonyoung didn’t notice him. He walked straight into the locker room.
—
Jihoon went home with a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t go away.
Every time he blinked, he saw Soonyoung from earlier. It didn’t match the image he had in his head. The Soonyoung who giggled at cat videos. Who tripped over absolutely nothing on their hallway carpet. That wasn’t a boy who fought for prize money.
…Unless he had to.
Jihoon stopped walking in their dorm’s hallway. It hit him slowly at first, then all at once, like a punch right in the sternum. Soonyoung wasn’t fighting for fun. He wasn’t fighting because he was reckless or thrill-seeking.
He was fighting because he needed money.
The pieces fell into place one after another, like a puzzle Jihoon didn’t even realize he’d been collecting for years:
Soonyoung’s scholarship, his worn-out shoes, his refusal to buy takeout unless it was on promo, his cracked phone screen that he never replaced, his old PC running Genshin on the lowest settings imaginable, how he never bought game currency and how he always skipped hangouts with the excuse, “I have to work later.”
It all made sense.
He remembered the story Soonyoung once told him.
It was one of those rare nights when they were both awake at 3 AM, lights off with a single lamp flickering between their rooms. Jihoon had been tuning Ruby; Soonyoung was doing laundry in the sink because the dorm washers were full.
Jihoon didn’t even know why he asked, “your parents… what do they do?”
Soonyoung had shrugged, still scrubbing his last T-shirt. “Dad’s sick. Mom works part-time as a house cleaner. My little sister’s still in high school so… their money all goes to necessities.”
Jihoon had paused, hand halfway over his guitar strings. “That sounds tough.”
A small laugh from Soonyoung. “It’s okay. I can handle myself.”
Jihoon remembered how he smiled while saying that. Like someone who’d learned early not to be a burden. That night, Jihoon had gone to bed thinking Soonyoung was simply hardworking.
Now he knew. Now he finally understood.
Soonyoung wasn’t just hardworking. He was carrying an entire heavy baggage alone.
Regarding his feelings... Jihoon didn’t know when it started. Maybe the very first week they moved into the dorm. When Soonyoung knocked gently on his door holding a tray of microwaved dumplings.
“You said you skipped lunch… so, uh, I made extra.”
Jihoon had been shocked. No one ever cared if he ate. People assumed someone like him. Lee Jihoon, the campus golden boy, rich kid, top student, had everything handled.
But Soonyoung just cared. And didn’t want anything in return.
Then there was that time during midterms… Jihoon was drowning in group project drama, and everyone kept pushing their work onto him. He remembers slamming his laptop shut out of frustration. Minutes later, Soonyoung simply sat beside him, offering a small cup of instant coffee.
“Our usual mineral water ran out so it might taste bad… but you look like you need something warm.”
Jihoon had tried not to smile. He failed so miserably.
When people crowded Jihoon after a major performance and he looked overwhelmed—
Soonyoung was the one who quietly squeezed his wrist and pulled him out. “Breathe. I’ve got you.”
When Jihoon was sick for the first time, Soonyoung had made porridge, even though he burned the bottom of the pot.
He sat on the floor beside Jihoon’s bed, watching a Marvel movie until Jihoon fell asleep.
Back then, Jihoon thought, “Why does someone as kind like you exist?”
For someone like Jihoon, who grew up surrounded by fake compliments and strategic friendships. Soonyoung’s presence felt genuine and all in all safe. And Jihoon didn’t know what to do with that.
After that he noticed himself remembering the smallest things about Soonyoung, the stupidest things.
Like the way Soonyoung’s glasses always slid down his nose when he laughed.
Or how he held chopsticks in the nerdiest, most incorrect grip known to man, and yet refused to correct it because “my hand is comfortable like this.” Like that one rainy night when Jihoon found Soonyoung standing outside 7/11 drenched because he had given his umbrella to a first-year girl crying over her own broken umbrella
Jihoon had run over, grabbed him by the wrist, and muttered “You’re an idiot. Get inside before you get sick.”
He said it annoyed him though he meant it fondly.
Everything about Soonyoung pulled him in. And Jihoon hated that. He didn’t want to feel this way. Didn’t want to risk ruining the one genuine connection he had in a world full of expectations and fake friendships.
So he acted nonchalant. Because if he acted normal he would fall too fast. Like a love sick puppy.
But tonight changed everything. He realized that Soonyoung is probably doing this to earn extra money. After all he came from a not so well off family. Jihoon felt something tighten painfully in his chest.
He liked him. He liked him so much it hurt. He wanted to protect him and take care of him.
“You should have told me what you’ve been going through…”
But he knew why Soonyoung didn’t. People like Jihoon who’s rich rarely understood struggle without pitying someone for it. And Soonyoung… Looks like he wasn’t the type to accept pity from anyone, least of all Jihoon.
—
The next day came. Jihoon once again came home later than usual. Wonwoo afterall cornered him, interrogating him where he went and why he disappeared the other day. He had to make up excuses and apologized to him for not replying to his messages. His mind wddas just on a haywire after such revelations.
Soonyoung’s door was slightly ajar again.
He shoul atdn’t look. He knew he shouldn’t. But he peeked anyway. Soonyoung was sitting at his desk, hoodie changed but still oversized, and fresh band-aid on his cheek. His Genshin Impact account sat idle on the monitor with Nahida doing her idle animation. But Soonyoung wasn’t playing. Probably waiting for a his resin to replenish.
He was reading Frieren, fingers slowly turning each page. Soonyoung always looked peaceful when he read. So different from the fighter Jihoon saw yesterday.
Jihoon swallowed hard.
How could it be the same person? How could he be the dangerous underground kickboxer and the gentle nerd who cried over anime death scenes? He remembers the dude crying in almost every Attack on Titan episode.
Jihoon leaned his forehead against the wall beside his own door and closed his eyes.
He had liked Soonyoung for years without admitting it. But last night… The feeling grew even bigger that he wasn’t sure he could hide anymore.
That leads him to remember another moment, Soonyoung once patched up a blister on Jihoon’s finger after a four-hour guitar rehearsal.
Jihoon had complained softly. but Soonyoung only smiled at him with kindness.
“Don’t be stubborn. You can’t play properly if this gets worse.”
And then he blew on the band-aid because “it helps it stick better.”
Jihoon had stared at him for a full ten seconds after that with a blush on his face. He pretended to be annoyed again that day but his heart that was beating fast told otherwise.
Now he realized...He didn’t want to just be Soonyoung’s roommate. He wanted to be someone Soonyoung could lean on. Someone Soonyoung could trust with his struggles. Someone Soonyoung didn’t have to hide from.
—
The next morning again...Jihoon woke up earlier than usual. He’d barely slept. He slipped out of bed quietly, tied his hair up, and padded into the small kitchen.
Then Jihoon cooked. He never cooked breakfast. He always ordered breakfast. Or grabbed something on the way to campus. But today his hands moved on autopilot. Cracking eggs, slicing spam, and frying rice. The sizzle filled the tiny dorm kitchen, the smell spreading through the whole house.
The pan hissed just as soft footsteps came from the hallway.
He didn’t have to turn around to guess who it was, he could feel Soonyoung enter the kitchen. Then he heard him chuckling, “Wow. I must still be dreaming,” Soonyoung teased, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses, “Lee Jihoon… cooking? In our kitchen?”
Jihoon scoffed, forcing nonchalance. “I’m capable of using a stove, you know.”
“Yeah, but you treat the stove like it personally offended you.” Jihoon rolled his eyes, even though a smile tried to tug at his mouth.
Soonyoung walked closer, peeking over his shoulder. His hair was still messy from sleep.
Soonyoung then leaned against the counter, “So… what’s the occasion?”
Jihoon shrugged. “Nothing. Just felt like cooking.”
“Liar. You only cook when something’s bothering you.”
Jihoon blinked. He didn’t know Soonyoung noticed that. He didn’t know Soonyoung noticed anything about him that deeply.
He turned off the stove before he burned the eggs and cleared his throat. “It’s nothing serious.”
“Hmm.”
Soonyoung didn’t push. He just watched him with those soft, sleepy eyes. “Well… thanks. It smells good.”
Jihoon nodded stiffly, trying to focus on plating. Soonyoung sat at their tiny dining table, swinging his legs like a child to warm up his body.
“Hey… Jihoon?”
“Yeah?”
Soonyoung scratched his cheek shyly. “There’s something I’ve… always wondered.”
Jihoon turned to Soonyoung, raising a brow. “Shoot.”
“Why do you live here?” Soonyoung awkwardly asked.
Jihoon blinked. “Here… as in…?”
“In this old, crappy, peeling-wallpaper boarding house.” Soonyoung gestured around. “With a roommate like me. When you could literally afford a whole condo alone?”
Jihoon didn’t respond at first.
Soonyoung fiddled with his fingers. “I mean— don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here. Really. But I always thought… someone rich like you wouldn’t… y’know. Choose something like this.”
Jihoon exhaled slowly.
He set the plates down on the table, sat across from him, and rested his elbows there.
“I didn’t want to live the kind of life my parents wanted for me.” Jihoon looked down at his hands. “When you grow up with money people treat you like you’re not a real person. Like you’re a trophy or… an investment.” He breathed out. “Everything came so easy that it felt meaningless.” Jihoon continued. “I wanted to meet people without them knowing my last name or my family’s company. So I told my parents I wanted to live in a boarding house. And they hated it.”
Soonyoung laughed. “That sounds like you.”
Jihoon shrugged. Then, hesitantly, he added, “And also… half my allowance goes somewhere else so I don't really have much for myself too.”
Soonyoung’s brows furrowed.
“Where?”
Jihoon looked away as he was slightly embarrassed. “…Animal shelters. And sometimes children’s foundations. And… just causes I see online.”
Soonyoung blinked at him. Then he smiled. The kind of smile that made Jihoon want to melt into his chair. “You’re… a good person, Jihoon.”
Jihoon’s ears turned red instantly. “I’m not—”
“You are. And that’s… really cool.”
Jihoon felt his heart stutter. Something warm blossomed in Jihoon’s chest. He didn’t know what possessed him but he whispered, “You make it easy.”
Soonyoung’s eyes widened slightly.
Jihoon quickly panicked upon seeing Soonyoung’s reaction, “I—I mean—what I mean is—”
Soonyoung grinned. A small, teasing grin that immediately made Jihoon want to bury himself under the table.
“I make what easy, Jihoon?”
Jihoon muttered at his plate, “…Being honest.”
Soonyoung’s smile softened again, “then I hope you’ll keep being honest with me.”
Soonyoung nudged Jihoon’s foot under the table. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Jihoon nudged back before he realized what he was doing. “You’re welcome… nerd.”
Soonyoung only laughed. Which Jihoon thought was a great music to his ears.
—
Soonyoung who's freshly showered and singing Colors, Code Geass' famous opening song, was packing his bag for class. He shoved in two thick textbooks, a ballpen, and a notebook that had clearly endured how many sems already.
Jihoon watched him from the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed, pretending to check his phone while actually staring.
Soonyoung winced when he lifted his arm. Just a tiny wince but Jihoon saw it.
Before Soonyoung could zip his bag, Jihoon stepped forward. “Wait.”
Soonyoung looked up, blinking behind those fogged glasses. “Huh?”
Jihoon reached out and tugged the strap of Soonyoung’s backpack off his shoulder.
To say Soonyoung was surprised was an understatement. “Jihoon…? What are you—”
Jihoon held the bag in one hand. “It’s heavy. I’ll carry it.”
Soonyoung burst into laughter. “Jihoon, it’s not heavy—”
“Your face literally twitched.”
“I was… yawning?”
“You were wincing.”
Soonyoung averted his eyes like a guilty puppy. “…Maybe I lifted it wrong.”
Jihoon stared at him seriously, “Soonyoung.”
“Fine, it’s a little heavy—”
“Exactly.”
Jihoon slung the backpack over his shoulder with ease, ignoring the warmth rushing to his face when Soonyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, “You don’t have to do that for me,” Soonyoung muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
“I know I don’t,” Jihoon replied. “But I want to.”
Soonyoung slowly blinked twice but Jihoon ignored it.
—
Usually, Soonyoung chattered about random things. New anime releases, a manga plot twist, a theory he saw on YouTube, or why a certain video game character was superior.
But today he was silent. Jihoon kept glancing at him.
Soonyoung had his hands in his hoodie pockets. It took him a while before he finally spoke.“…You’re acting weird.”
Jihoon almost choked. “Weird? How come?”
“Yeah. But not in a bad way. Just…” Soonyoung squinted playfully. “…suspiciously nice.”
Jihoon snorted. “I’m not suspicious. And are you telling me I am not nice?”
“I-It's not that... It's just you did things you don't usually do...You made breakfast.”
“That’s not a crime.”
“And now you’re carrying my bag.”
“You injured a shoulder.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.”
Soonyoung sighed dramatically. “Fine. You’re right. Happy?”
Jihoon smirked. “Very.”
Soonyoung nudged him with his elbow. Jihoon pretended the touch didn’t make his heart ricochet inside his chest.
The closer they got to the campus, the more chatter surrounded them:
“Is that Jihoon? The famous band vocalist?”
“He looks extra good today.”
“Who’s he with?”
“Oh? His roommate?”
“Why are they walking so close?”
Jihoon didn’t care about gossip. But today… he walked a fraction closer to Soonyoung. Close enough that their sleeves brushed. Close enough to signal others: He’s with me. I’m with him. Don’t bother him.
Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did. His ears were turning pink.
“Hey, Jihoon?”
“Hm?”
“…Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this. For being… here.” Soonyoung looked away shyly. “I don’t really get you.”
Jihoon looked at Soonyoung with a confused expression, “huh?”
Soonyoung nodded. “You’re really popular here you know… You're talented… rich… And basically the whole campus has a crush on you.” He laughed awkwardly. “Someone like you usually never notices someone like me.”
Jihoon stared at him. Like the words had physically hit him. The Soonyoung kept walking, oblivious about Jihoon’s feelings. “But you do,” he said softly. “And I’m glad.”
Jihoon swallowed thick. “I notice you more than you think.”
Soonyoung chuckled it's as if treating what Jihoon said as a joke. “Yeah, sure.”
Jihoon stopped walking. Soonyoung turned around due to that, and it’s his turn to get confused. Jihoon stepped closer, close enough that Soonyoung blinked rapidly and backed up a bit.
“I mean it.”
Soonyoung’s breath hitched. “J-Jihoon—”
Jihoon adjusted the strap of Soonyoung’s backpack on his own shoulder. “You should start letting people care about you.” Jihoon then added. “Or at least… let me.”
That made Soonyoung blush but a tiny smile formed in his lips “…Okay,” Soonyoung whispered. “I’ll try.”
—
The hallway outside the general building was unusually loud for a weekday afternoon. Jihoon had just finished a late class, binder tucked under his arm and his earbuds in, replaying the new riff he recorded earlier. He turned the corner and froze.
A circle of students had formed near the lockers, voices dripping with mockery.
At the center of it was Soonyoung.
His glasses were knocked slightly askew, the sleeve of his hoodie dirty from when someone must’ve shoved him, and he was clutching his books to his chest the way he always did when he was trying to make himself smaller.
That made Jihoon pull off his earbuds
One of the rich kids, he recognized him, son of some hotel chain CEO, snickered, “Aw, look at him. Nerdy boy can’t even walk straight without tripping? No wonder he hides in those ugly clothes.”
Another added, “Hey, maybe his family’s too poor to afford new clothes.”
Laughter erupted in the hall which made Jihoon’s jaw clenched so tightly. Before he even realized he moved, he was already stepping into the center of the circle, planting himself between them and Soonyoung.
“Whoever lays a hand on my roommate,” Jihoon said, “is going against me.”
Silence fell like a guillotine. People whipped around with their eyes widening. And Someone whispered, “Isn’t that— Isn’t that Lee Jihoon?”
Another muttered, “Shit. Why’s he defending him?”
Jihoon took another step forward, shoulders squared. “We’re in college,” he snapped. “Not a bunch of high schoolers. What the hell are you doing? Bullying someone because your Daddy’s wallet is bigger?” He glared, disgust curling in his voice. “You rich brats are good for nothing after all, you age by years but not in maturity.”
No one dared talk back. Not to Lee Jihoon, heir to a conglomerate, the guy with connections so deep even the faculty treated him carefully. He rarely used that influence but he wasn’t above using it now. Especially not when it came to Soonyoung.
Jihoon turned slightly, just enough to see Soonyoung’s eyes widen behind his crooked glasses. There was surprise there, probably Confusion top and something like…softness?
“Get lost! Scram!” Jihoon shouted to the crowd.
They scattered instantly.
—
The moment they were alone, Jihoon spun around to Soonyoung.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” His voice broke into frustration he didn’t bother to hide.
“You could’ve knocked them all out.” Jihoon wanted to add but Soonyoung does not know yet that he knows about his secret.
Soonyoung averted his eyes, “I don’t want to get expelled,” he murmured. “Those guys… their families could easily turn the story around. I don’t have anything. And I worked way too hard to lose my scholarship just because some bored rich boys need a punching bag.”
The words hit Jihoon harder than he expected. Right. That was the difference between them. Soonyoung had everything to lose. Jihoon… had never experienced that kind of powerless fear.
“…Come with me,” Jihoon muttered.
Before Soonyoung could protest, Jihoon grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the corridor, out the back exit, toward the small abandoned gazebo near the old music building. Once they reached it, Jihoon dropped his bag onto the bench and fished out a small zippered pouch.
Soonyoung blinked. “You… you carry a first-aid kit?”
Jihoon didn’t answer. He just unzipped it.
Inside were alcohol wipes, gauze, ointment…and a collection of cartoon band-aids.
Not Pororo this time, but cute little chubby animals. Soonyoung stared.
“Hey—” His voice cracked with amused disbelief. “You… you have these too?”
Jihoon ignored the teasing in his tone and reached forward, gently taking Soonyoung’s chin to tilt his face toward the light.
Soonyoung stilled. Jihoon’s touch was warm.
“This might sting,” Jihoon murmured, wiping the dirt near Soonyoung’s cheekbone. His brows were knitted together in concentration and his lips pressed in a tight line like he was the one hurting.
Soonyoung watched him quietly. “You didn’t have to step in, you know,” Soonyoung whispered. “I could’ve just walked away.”
“No,” Jihoon muttered, dabbing ointment carefully onto the bruised skin. “You shouldn’t have to.”
When he finished, he peeled the back off a tiny band-aid featuring a fat bunny clinging to a carrot.
“Seriously?” Soonyoung laughed softly. “You’re giving me that?”
Jihoon glared lightly. “It’s cute. Shut up.”
He placed the band-aid gently. “There. Don’t touch it.”
“Okay, okay,” Soonyoung chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes, but the tips of his ears reddened. And then, slowly… that irritation melted.
Soonyoung reached out, lightly tugging a strand of Jihoon’s hair in teasing gratitude.
Jihoon batted his hand away but didn’t step back. Which made Soonyoung smile so sincerely. Jihoon looked away before Soonyoung could see how much that smile affected him.
—
By late afternoon, both were exhausted.
Soonyoung had PE electives. Jihoon had meetings for the music club. Jihoon came home a few minutes later than Soonyoung. After changing his clothes he saw Soonyoung watching something in the living room.
“Want to watch anime together?” Soonyoung asked immediately. Looking up from the caramel popcorn he's busy feasting on.
“Okay,” Jihoon agreed. After all he loves watching anime too, it’s just that he’s not as open as Soonyoung about it. He's a closet nerd, that's probably one of the facts about himself that not a lot of people know.
They debated for awhile what to watch till they ended up choosing Spyxfamily.
Half an episode in, Soonyoung stretched, one leg brushing against Jihoon’s thigh.
“Hey Ji,” Soonyoung murmured eventually, eyes still on the screen. “Thanks… for yesterday.”
Jihoon looked down at the blanket pooling around his knees. “…You don’t have to thank me again.”
“I do,” Soonyoung said softly. “No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”
“You deserved better than what they did,” Jihoon whispered.
Soonyoung smiled faintly at the screen, an expression Jihoon barely caught from the corner of his eye. “You always say things that make it hard for me not to like you,” Soonyoung joked lightly.
Jihoon felt the words hit harder than they were meant to. He pretended not to hear it though.
Halfway through episode four, Soonyoung’s eyes wandered not on the anime but on the corner of Jihoon’s room, visible through the half-open door.
“Ji?”
“What?”
“…Do you have more guitars other than Ruby?”
“Uh.”
Soonyoung got off the couch, padding over curiously.
He swung open the door. Jihoon nearly died.
Inside, lined perfectly along a padded vertical stand, were seven guitars. Different shapes, colors, and textures. Acoustic, electric, even a vintage semi-hollow model.
“Soonyoung—hey—wait—don’t—!”
But Soonyoung was already crouching, eyes sparkling like a kid at a toy store. “Oh my god,” he breathed. “Hoon. You have seven guitars?”
“…Six.” Jihoon mumbled. Then after a beat— “…Okay seven.”
Soonyoung snorted. “Why are you embarrassed? This is cool as hell!”
Jihoon tugged at his oversized shirt. “It’s just… people think it’s ridiculous”
“Ji.” Soonyoung stood, looking at him with real admiration. “It’s literally a passion. I don’t find it ridiculous.”
Jihoon stared at the floor. Then Soonyoung noticed the small name tags tied to the tuning pegs. He gasped audibly.
“No friggin’ way,” he whispered while leaning closer. “You named them?”
Jihoon wanted the earth to swallow him.
“…Maybe.”
“Oh this one's ruby right? I know you named this one, didn’t expect you named the others too. ” Soonyoung pointed at a sleek, deep-red electric guitar.
Jihoon sighed. “Yeah.”
“Hah! Cute.” He moved to the glossy white acoustic. “And this one?”
“…Cloud.”
Soonyoung bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “And this black one?”
“Nightshade.”
“Oh my god Jihoon. You’re such a nerd.”
He wasn’t mocking though, he looks very delighted. Soonyoung looked at each guitar, reading the names aloud, “Ruby, Cloud, Nightshade, Willow, Luna, Ember… and— is this— Frostbite??”
Jihoon covered his face with both hands. “Stop.”
But Soonyoung just laughed while walking over to ruffle Jihoon’s hair. “It’s adorable,” he said. “Makes me like you more.”
Jihoon’s heart stopped. He looked up, wide-eyed.
Soonyoung froze a little too, realizing what he said. But instead of taking it back, he smiled. “Come on,” Soonyoung murmured, grabbing Jihoon’s wrist. “Show me how Ruby sounds.”
“…Okay.”
Jihoon sat on his bed, Ruby in his lap, fingers settling on the strings. Soonyoung sat on the floor in front of him, cross-legged, chin resting on his knees as he watched excitedly.
Jihoon started to play.
Soonyoung didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He simply listened, gaze never leaving Jihoon’s face.
When the song ended, Soonyoung whispered, “You’re amazing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Jihoon whispered back.
TBC...