Believe Again: Chapter 32

When Saeran woke, it was all over.

Mint Eye had been exposed—the illegal experiments taking place, the suspected associations it had with the government and other people involved in dealings with Park Ha Yoon, the government funding for this organization… Everything was broadcast on national television, with the aid of Jaehee and Jumin. It kept the politicians busy enough, buying time for Saeyoung, MC and Saeran to safely flee the country.

As for Park Ha Yoon… well, Saeyoung couldn't tell him for sure what had happened, and there was no news following his abrupt disappearance. They could only assume that he was dead, and with all the information about Saeran out of Mint Eye's system files, there would be no one else coming after him.

It was all finally over. All those years of pain, brainwashing, struggling to be good enough… everything was over. He was safe now, with his family, and he could finally put everything behind him, put it all in the past.

But that applied to other things as well. The bunker, the RFA, the park… her.

There hadn't been time to talk or to explain. When he woke up, he had already found himself in a hospital room, and the nurse who entered didn't look Korean. Neither did the doctor.

It didn't take long for him to realise that he was no longer in Korea.

He had left. For good. And he didn't even get to see her again, make sure she was alright after going through all of that in Mint Eye.

Then again, how could she be alright? There was just no way.

The last thing that he remembered of her was her anguished screams, and the scars that Sejun had left on her arm. That mark that he had so desperately tried to erase with the cuts and scars embedded in his skin. Everything was still fresh in his head, and there were many nights where he would be haunted by a nightmarish recount of the scene where she was practically being tortured in front of him. Because of him.

Maybe it was for the better after all that he didn't see her again. She probably wanted nothing to do with him after this, and he wouldn't blame her. As long as she was safe now, that was all that mattered. Saeyoung said that she had been brought to a hospital and that Jumin had promised to make sure she recovered well.

That was really all he could ask for. The ache in his chest was nothing he couldn't handle.

Saeyoung and MC had both apologized profusely for taking him away like that, not giving him the chance to say goodbye, but it wasn't their fault. They were all lucky enough to be alive considering everything that had happened, and to have escaped here to Switzerland with no hitches along the way.

Still. He couldn't help but miss home. The bunker that Saeyoung had practically dragged him to after taking him away from Mint Eye the first time, the stupid passwords that his brother liked to put on the gate, the smell of MC's cooking in the kitchen… Then there was the park. The place that he went to when he needed a breath of fresh air, to get away from the bad thoughts in his head on the bad days. He would find his favourite bench, the one that offered him the best, clearest view of the sky above.

And then there was her. Walking past him, stealing glances at him as she passed, eventually joining him on the park bench and sharing ice cream with him on Fridays.

He missed her. So much that it hurt more than the throbbing headache or the sting of acid in his throat each time he threw up.

It was like a fairy tale story that had come and gone with the wind. He had spent enough time dreaming, and it was time to return to reality. This was where he belonged—with Saeyoung and MC. His family.

And that was really all he could ask for.

…Or maybe, he could just ask for one more thing:

Please… please be alright.

By the time you woke up, he had already disappeared.

He never came to visit you in the hospital, not even once. Even though he was the only person you were longing to meet. All you knew from his friends was that he had gone somewhere far away, because it wasn't safe here for him any longer. Saeyoung and MC had taken him and the three of them were gone.

There wasn't so much as a shadow of him in the park or in the bench where he usually sat. It was like the past couple of months never happened. The only thing that reminded you that he was real—that kept you from forgetting him—was the scar on your arm. It was covered in bandages just like his, hidden beneath the long sleeves of your top.

It served as a painful reminder of your last memory of him—chained up, looking like he'd been seriously drugged up, crying and screaming your name while that person ripped into your skin with his knife. You wouldn't forget. You couldn't forget. You heard his voice almost every night in your dreams, saw the tears streaming down his face.

The worst part of recounting this every night in your fitful sleep was the occasional thought that crept into your mind:

You should never have met him.

The bitter, cruel words made you hate yourself even more.

If you hadn't met Saeran from the start, then maybe all this wouldn't have happened. You wouldn't have gotten kidnapped, you wouldn't earned that ugly mess of scars on your arm that probably would never heal, and you wouldn't have to go for regular therapy now in order to slowly move past all the things that had happened to you in that dark place.

And each time you thought that, you would dig your nails into your bandages, the sting of pain making your mind snap to its senses.

It was true. If you hadn't met him, none of that would have happened. But that was just an 'if'. A meaningless, fanciful word.

'If' didn't change the fact that you had met him, or the fact that you had chosen to get closer to him despite all the warnings he gave you and how he desperately tried to push you away.

'If' didn't change the fact that you had fallen in love with him, the man who loved ice cream and watching the clouds go by in the sky.

'If' didn't change the fact that he might have loved you too.

And 'if' didn't change the fact that now that he was gone, you felt empty, like there was a gaping hole in your chest. You wouldn't get to see his red hair, his green eyes, the way they light up when he eats his ice cream, or the way they turn misty and fog up with emotion whenever he gazes up at the clouds. You wouldn't get to play a guessing game as to what he might be thinking about anymore, when you looked at his pensive expression.

There was nothing left.

All that remained were scars. Ones that might never heal. Scars like his, although you knew he probably had much, much more buried in his heart, that he had never told you about.

You just wished he were here. Then maybe, just maybe, trying to heal wouldn't feel so painful.

A/N: Listened to 'Your Lie in April' sad OST for this. :)

The next chapter should be the last — and then there will be 1 or 2 epilogues coming up afterwards :)) FLUFF!

For those of you who have hung on to this wild ride for the past couple of years, thank you. You're the reasons I could get this far with this story ^^