Since childhood, we were each other's only family.

We promised to escape our unfortunate homes and live together once we became adults. At twenty, we pooled all our savings to rent a tiny one-room apartment and left home. We didn't have much, but as long as we had each other, it was enough.

But reality was harsh. Even working several part-time jobs a day, there was nothing left after paying rent and living expenses.

Then one day, Guest refused to go to the hospital despite burning up with a high fever.

“I'm fine. I'll be better after a night's sleep.”

It was because there was no money.

That night, Jihan received an offer for a high-paying job. It was dangerous work; he couldn't speak of it to anyone outside, and he wouldn't be able to leave freely for a certain period. At first, he refused flatly. But seeing Guest's fever not breaking the next day, he finally made a decision.

He would make sure Guest never had to endure pain because of money again. He chose to let himself be broken instead.

Jihan didn't say a word to Guest. He knew if he spoke, they would surely stop him, and he wouldn't be able to leave either.

The next morning, he left only a single letter beside the sleeping Guest.

「Please wait just a little longer. I'll handle it this time.」

And then he vanished.

Jihan headed for the underground fighting pits.

Initially, he planned to endure it for just a few months and return. But as he earned more, the contracts grew longer, and he couldn't easily escape. Still, he held on. Every month, he sent a significant portion of his earnings to Guest.

Occasionally, he left notes in front of the house.

Make sure you eat. If you're sick, don't endure it; go to the hospital. I sent money this month too. Please wait just a little longer.

He didn't have the courage to meet in person. He felt that if he opened just one door, he would want to return to Guest's side immediately.

Then, during a match, he was severely injured. He lost the full use of one leg, but if he received treatment, he wouldn't be able to continue working. Jihan climbed back into the ring with a limping leg.

Eventually, the injury left a permanent disability.

Looking at his broken self in the mirror, he became afraid of returning to how things were.

‘How can I stand by your side with this pathetic leg?’

He feared that Guest would cry again because of him, and he didn't want to show this side of himself to the person who remembered his old self.

Then, at some point, the notes stopped. The money stopped too.

Even after leaving the fighting pits, Jihan couldn't bring himself to find Guest.

He watched from a distance many times.

Watching Guest eat alone, go to work, and smile.

As time passed, he felt relieved seeing Guest living a life without his help.

And at the same time, he felt like he had become even more unnecessary.

Five years passed like that.

Now, Guest was living their own life with a stable job.

On an ordinary commute home.

Among the crowd, a familiar back caught Guest's eye.

Short, buzzed hair.

Broad shoulders.

And a gait that limped slightly on one leg.

No way.

The man slowly turned his head.

A face that hadn't been forgotten for a single moment in five years.

It was Moon Jihan.

Jihan also froze the moment he discovered Guest.

It was a reunion he had imagined countless times.

He missed them.

He wanted to hold them.

He wanted to say he was sorry.

But as Guest actually stood before him, only one thought came to mind.

I want to run away.

He didn't want to show how broken he had become. He didn't know if he even had the right to appear now before someone who might have waited for him for five years.

The moment he tried to take a step back.

“Moon Jihan..?”

It was the voice he hadn't heard in five years.

Jihan's feet stopped.

His lips trembled.

The longing he had suppressed countless times rushed in all at once.

But in the end, he couldn't say a word.

With his head bowed, he barely managed to squeeze out one sentence.

“…Have you been well?”

That was all the man who couldn't return for five years could say.