“What would we have done without Rion-sunbae?”
“Thank god we’ve got Rion.”
“Honestly, Rion… if you hadn’t been here, I don’t know if I could’ve held out this long.”
Everyone kept saying Rion’s name. At first, Rion had taken it as a given. But as time went on, hearing it began to feel unbearably heavy.
When he’d first entered the Gate, it hadn’t seemed unmanageable—annoying, sure, but nothing he couldn’t handle.
But the difficulty had far exceeded his expectations.
In all the Gates he’d entered until now, even when they’d irritated him or seemed dangerous, he’d never once thought they were impossible to clear.
“Is this really okay…?”
Others said it was lucky to have Rion, praised his abilities, said even in an S-rank Gate, it has to be Rion. But he didn’t feel that way at all.
For now, he was managing—but just a little more, and he felt like his limits would start to show.
The truth was, it was exhausting. Only two days had passed, and he was already drained. Just like the others—no, maybe even more than them—he was filled with anxiety.
But he couldn’t show it. If he did, he’d ruin the mood.
He didn’t just hide it—he had to keep up the front, act like everything was fine, that nothing fazed him. Even whining once felt like a risk.
Because if he showed how worn out he really was, it would absolutely shake the teammates who looked to him as their emotional anchor.
He’d told them over and over: Don’t think negatively. Just focus on what you can do. But the truth was, Rion himself had the most tangled, chaotic thoughts of them all.
Maybe that’s why—when Yu-won took his turn on night watch and Rion was left alone in the tent—his carefully suppressed tears finally burst forth.
“Hrk…”
He felt so wretched, he wanted to cry out loud. But he didn’t dare. He was afraid it might wake the others.
So he cried, burying sorrow and fear deep down, silently stifling each sob.
Then—he heard the soft sound of the tent zipper sliding down.
“…”
The only ones who would enter this tent were Joo-chan or Yu-won.
Rion quickly wiped his face and looked up.
Through blurry vision, he saw Yu-won.
“What… what is it? Is something wrong?”
He tried to pretend he hadn’t been crying, but no amount of darkness could hide the redness around his eyes. And his stuffy, nasal voice gave him away completely.
“….”
Yu-won just stood there, staring at him. Frozen. Doing nothing. He looked… a little surprised.
“Damn it… this is embarrassing. Don’t tell the others, okay? They’ll just worry…”
“Even if it’s you, it’s still tough… isn’t it?”
Rion tried to crack a joke, brushing it off like nothing. But Yu-won didn’t let him off so easily.
“I can’t be the one struggling. Not me…”
“Why not? Why can’t you struggle?”
“…”
On the surface, it sounded like the usual banter. But tonight, it was different. Even in the shadows, Rion could see the faint tension in Yu-won’s expression.
“You’re just a person like everyone else. Why shouldn’t it be hard for you? Of course it is.”
“Yeah, but… if the others find out I’m having a hard time, it’ll shake them. It’s better than dragging them down…”
“Is that really more important? You’re in this much pain—crying alone in a tent—and still, you…”
Yu-won was speaking softly, but there was definite anger in his voice.
Something about it made Rion feel even more miserable. He tried to push through the rising tears.
“It is important. To me, it is. This is all I have. I… I have to be that person.”
But the tears that had welled up now streamed down uncontrollably, like a faucet turned all the way on.
“I have to be that person.”
“Who said that? Yeah, everyone leans on you—that’s true. But you know they’re not the kind of people who would pile more onto you, not when you’re already this overwhelmed.”
“I know. They’d feel bad. That’s why… as long as they don’t find out…”
“That’s not the point.”
Yu-won stepped toward Rion, his face finally coming into view—and the frustration written across it was clear as day.
Yu-won rarely showed his emotions so openly. That made it all the more jarring.
He looked at Rion, whose eyes were now brimming with tears, and spoke.
“There’s no one in this world who deserves to carry all of it. But you—you go out there every time like it doesn’t matter if you get hurt, like dying wouldn’t be a big deal, and then you don’t want anyone to notice when you’re in pain? This isn’t about being ‘kind’ or not.”
“…”
“I’m not saying you should tell me. Tell Hyeon-seo-sunbae. Or even Tae-hwan-sunbae—”
“You wouldn’t understand. No one would. Not you, not anyone. But I have to be this way. It’s my role.”
At that, Yu-won bit his lip, clearly holding back even more frustration.
Watching him, Rion opened his mouth like he was possessed.
“It’s because people like that… people who meant well… are the reason I’m still alive. That’s why…”
“…?”
Rion hung his head low, tears dripping down.
He’d already shown such a pathetic side of himself—what was one more thing?
Yu-won probably won’t even react. He’ll just nod like always. It’s not like he’d get stressed worrying about me the way the others might…
It was a sudden decision—but once the tears started flowing, he felt like he wanted to let everything out.
Besides, Yu-won was always clashing with him anyway. Maybe, if he heard it directly from Rion, he’d finally understand him a little.
That’s what pushed Rion to speak.
“You probably already know… I grew up in a care facility. My parents died in an accident, and there weren’t any relatives willing to take me in, so I was raised in a group home.”
“….”
Yu-won flinched, clearly startled by the unexpected confession.
Rion saw it and let out a small, wry laugh.
“First time I’ve said that out loud since I turned twenty… didn’t think you would be the one hearing it.”
In a small voice, he began to talk.
***
“Mom! This bus looks weird!”
It happened when Rion was still in elementary school.
A few days prior, heavy rain had come out of nowhere and ruined a promised trip to the amusement park. Feeling bad about it, Rion’s dad took a day off work to make it up to him.
They submitted a field trip request so Rion could skip school for a day. The whole family was finally going out together—and Rion had been giddy with excitement.
“There aren’t any handles, just a bunch of seats!”
“It’s an intercity bus. Come on, let’s sit and buckle up.”
His mom smiled, helping strap him in as he fidgeted restlessly.
Rion took the window seat, eyes wide at the sight of all the buses filling the terminal.
“There’s so many buses!”
“We’ll take this one most of the way, then transfer once. We’ll be at the park after that.”
“Why aren’t we using our car today?”
“The car’s in bad shape, remember? It’s still at the repair shop. We won’t get it back until the weekend.”
They’d planned the trip around his dad’s day off, but their car had broken down unexpectedly. So they were taking the bus instead—not that Rion minded. If anything, it made things more exciting.
“I’ve never seen so many buses before!”
“Okay, we’re leaving now.”
The engine hummed to life.
Rion sat beside his mom, with his dad on the other side of the aisle. There weren’t many other passengers, and the ride was smooth at first.
Just watching the scenery whiz past had Rion buzzing with anticipation for the amusement park.
Until—
“Hey! What the hell kind of driving is that?!”
The bus began to swerve noticeably, weaving between lanes.
Passengers raised their voices in alarm.
One especially angry man shouted at the driver.
But the driver said nothing. He just kept gripping the wheel, offering no apology.
“Hey! Are you deaf or something—”
CRASH—!
“Kyaaaa!!”
“Mom!!”
The furious passenger hadn’t even finished his sentence when a deafening crash rocked the vehicle.
“Aaaaagh!”
“Somebody help!”
“Ugh…”
Screams rang out, the world flipped upside down.
Rion blinked, confused—then burst into tears.
“Moooom!”
“Rion, I’m right here! Just hang on…”
He heard the click of a seatbelt unbuckling. His mother had ended up against the bus window, now shattered.
Stepping on the broken glass, she reached over, unfastened his seatbelt, and pulled him into her arms.
“Mom, it hurts…”
“Did you get hit? Oh no, Rion… Honey? Are you okay?”
A flying object had scraped Rion’s arm during the crash.
Despite blood running down her forehead, his mother paid no attention to her own injury. All that mattered was that her son was okay.
“Rion… Honey, are you alright?”
Luckily, all three of them had been wearing seatbelts and weren’t critically injured.
Standing carefully on the cracked windows, they began to assess the situation—still shaken, but alive.
