As Myung-ha and the other two disappeared completely from sight, Sol turned to look at Ji-ho with worry-filled eyes. Sensing Sol’s gaze, Ji-ho met his eyes and flashed a faint, teasing smile—not forced or upset, but mischievous. Realizing Sol was checking on him, Ji-ho finally let go of his tightly held hand.
“You couldn’t go to the bathroom because of them, right? Go ahead now.”
It almost felt ridiculous to go to the bathroom after what had just happened. Sol shook his head and instead turned the question back on Ji-ho.
“I’m fine… I didn’t really need to go anyway. But are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“……”
To Sol, Ji-ho genuinely seemed unaffected. But that very reaction left him with a hollow ache in his chest. No one could truly brush off criticism unscathed—whether it was justified or not, it still hurt. The depth of that hurt might vary, and some people might process it later, even accepting the criticism eventually. Sol himself might not have been able to shake it off so easily. But Ji-ho seemed completely untouched, and that felt… off.
When Sol’s expression remained tense, Ji-ho raised both hands and placed them on his shoulders, giving them a few light pats. It was Ji-ho who’d been insulted, yet Sol looked ready to cry any second. Studying Sol’s face, Ji-ho smirked and drawled,
“Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed you saw that. But I don’t really care. It’s not like they were wrong.”
Sol’s expression darkened further. Ji-ho’s casual acceptance of Myung-ha’s criticism made Sol resent himself for staying silent and hiding earlier. He should’ve at least stormed into the bathroom and glared daggers at them—even if he couldn’t outright tell them to stop badmouthing Ji-ho. Frustration sharpened his voice as he snapped,
“Why are you embarrassed? The ones who should be ashamed are the people talking crap behind your back!”
Ji-ho’s eyes widened—he’d never seen Sol raise his voice like this. But the surprise quickly faded, replaced by an even brighter smile as he deliberately softened his tone, teasing.
“Myung-ha wasn’t wrong, though. I am clinging to you like a leech. And hey, I’ve got some taste, you know.”
Wrapping an arm around Sol’s waist, Ji-ho pulled him close, his playful whimper a lighthearted attempt to soothe Sol’s anger—which had flared up far too late, overshadowing his initial worry.
Ji-ho himself knew Myung-ha wasn’t entirely wrong. Ever since realizing he was just a frog in a well—that he had neither extraordinary talent nor looks—he’d lived exactly as Myung-ha had said. He didn’t want to fall behind the top group. He clung to them desperately, even doing favors he’d never been asked to, just to fit in.
When he pulled Sol tightly into his arms, he could feel Sol’s heart pounding unevenly, as if he were genuinely upset. None of this would’ve happened if Sol hadn’t caught that bastard Myung-ha's eye in the first place. He should’ve stayed far away. Ji-ho didn’t want Sol finding out about this side of him. What if Sol thought every kindness he showed was just a calculated act, not genuine? He couldn’t bear planting even a hint of doubt.
But hearing Sol’s ragged breaths made him realize he was overthinking. Ji-ho loosened his grip slightly, then suddenly yanked Sol back into a tight embrace. The motion was playful, exaggerated—anything to keep Sol from feeling awkward.
“Even if you become super popular later, you better treat me well so you can’t ditch me.”
“Ji-ho hyung!”
Unlike Ji-ho, who laughed carefreely as if nothing was wrong, Sol felt even worse seeing him joke around while his own eyes burned with unshed tears. When Sol raised his voice sharply, Ji-ho burst into laughter.
No matter how skilled Ji-ho was at packaging and presenting himself, he was still human, just as Sol thought. Petty mind games like this were exhausting, and if it weren’t for Sol, he wouldn’t have bothered engaging at all.
But because he was human, his lips had twitched violently when he’d found Sol listening to those rumors outside the bathroom. For a split second, he’d been grateful Sol’s head was bowed, hiding his expression. Until now, he’d forced smiles in front of Sol, pretending to be unshaken and strong—but this time, his laughter was real. Sol’s anger and worry thrilled him.
When they’d first met, Ji-ho had been the one to snap rudely, yet it was Sol who’d glanced around nervously, wearing a hurt expression. Now, seeing Sol rage on his behalf, gritting his teeth with teary eyes, Ji-ho couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re getting mad for me? Our Sol’s too kind. It feels good having you on my side.”
Ji-ho laid on the charm, but Sol wasn’t having it this time. Instead, overwhelmed by delayed emotions, Sol’s eyes turned red as if he might burst into tears. Only then did Ji-ho panic, dropping the act and hurriedly comforting him.
“I really don’t care. Our current members are way too soft, but stuff like this is normal everywhere else.”
“……”
“Backhanded gossip is nothing. At least they can’t bully me outright.”
Far from softening at Ji-ho’s words, Sol’s eyes only grew redder. Soon, even the rounded, pretty tip of his nose flushed bright.
“Most of us have lived without guardians since our teens… If no one shows us care, it’s no different than a classroom without a teacher. Just the same childish nonsense as school…”
The more he spoke, the darker Sol’s expression became, and Ji-ho—usually so composed—found himself flustered. Instead of calming Sol down, Ji-ho rambled faster, barely even aware of what he was saying. When Sol’s eyes began shimmering with warmth, he ducked his head low. Ji-ho, who had been holding him, let go and bent down to meet Sol’s lowered gaze.
“Sol-ah, I’m really fine, okay? Don’t cry. Don’t. Stop!”
Half-bent at the waist, Ji-ho tilted his head up and forced his face into Sol’s line of sight. They’d already finished makeup—all that was left was changing clothes. If Sol started crying now, someone would have to go through the hassle all over again.
“If you cry, it’ll look like I made you. Sol-ah.”
Stubbornly, they locked eyes—Sol with his head hung low, Ji-ho straining upward. Though Sol’s eyes were brimming, he clenched his jaw, fighting back tears. Ji-ho took a half-step back, worried the slightest nudge would break the dam—but Sol reached out and grabbed his arm. A voice, thin and wavering, slipped through the space between them.
“…Sorry. Ji-ho hyung.”
“Sol-ah, what do you have to be sorry for?”
Ji-ho reflexively batted the apology away. What could Sol possibly have to apologize for? If anyone should be chewing out apologies, it’s Myung-ha.
“I’m sorry I just listened… and didn’t say anything.”
“Sol-ah…”
Ji-ho exhaled, weary, and murmured his name softly.
“Why would you apologize for that?”
He wrapped his hand around Sol’s, the one still gripping his arm. At the tender touch, Sol gnawed at his lip. If the people beyond the bathroom had cursed at him—if it had been Ji-ho or another member in his place—what would’ve happened? He didn’t know for sure, but they’d have all reacted like it was their own fight. Knowing his members, with their overwhelming love, they wouldn’t have stopped at just words. They’d have probably dragged Myung-ha by the collar, demanding an apology.
"If it had been the opposite, you wouldn’t have done it, right?"
Sol spat out the words almost in a whisper, gnawing on his lips, already stained red. If he raised his voice any louder, a sob would have tumbled out instead of words. Ji-ho tilted his head as he watched him.
"Yeah, that’s true. If Myung-ha had talked shit about you, I’d have fought him, broadcast station or whatever be damned. But Sol-ah—just because I do something doesn’t mean you have to do it too."
Even as Ji-ho spoke softly, Sol didn’t lift his head. Ji-ho stared at the rounded curve of his silver-haired crown, slumped forward, and thought how much he wanted to touch it like a glass marble. Would Sol then swallow his tears and glare at him like he was ridiculous? If it could lighten the weight of Sol’s gloomy thoughts, Ji-ho would play that prank a dozen more times.
"Just because I give you a gift doesn’t mean you have to give me one back. Just because I fight for you doesn’t mean you have to do the same for me."
Ji-ho fixed his gaze on Sol’s head and spoke his mind with rare honesty, free of embellishment or pretense. Even though he always wanted to show Sol his unfiltered self, the habits ingrained in him made Ji-ho package himself as usual: the kind, caring older brother who looked out for his younger sibling. It wasn’t that he only wanted to be that good hyung—but with Sol not looking at him, it was easier to lay his heart bare.
If only Sol wouldn’t lift his head until Ji-ho finished speaking. No, if only Sol wouldn’t look at him right now, in this moment. Then Ji-ho wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he was glad to see Sol upset and frustrated, angry at himself for not being able to fight back for Ji-ho’s sake. If Sol raised his head and met Ji-ho’s eyes, Ji-ho would just wrap himself up again in the persona of the good hyung, like always. He’d lived his whole life that way—he didn’t know how to stop. It came as naturally as breathing.
"Thinking you have to do something just because I would… that’s kind of sad. Isn’t that exactly what Myung-ha said?"
Luckily, just as Ji-ho hoped, Sol never looked up at him. Watching Sol’s bowed head, Ji-ho wore an expression caught between tears and laughter—uncharacteristically indecipherable. This was his most honest, bare face.
T/N: Sorry for the super late update! I lost my Ridibooks account and it took a while before I got it back, so I dont have any copy of the raws. ><
