The courtroom was too bright. Too silent.
The polished wood of the benches, the rustle of papers, the murmurs that died the second I entered—it all pressed down on me, like the air itself was too heavy to breathe.
My legs felt weak as I walked toward the witness stand. Every step dragged like chains still bound to my ankles. My palms were damp, trembling as I held them close, as if folding them tight enough might hide how badly I was shaking.
And then I saw him.
Park Hyok.
Even in shackles, even with guards on either side, his presence filled the room like poison. Hence making me vibrate like a pendulum. His eyes locked onto mine instantly, sharp and gleaming. A faint smirk tugged at his lips—small enough that no one else would notice, but I did. I always noticed. It was the same smile he wore when I cried, when I begged, when he broke me.
My knees faltered. For a second, I thought I'd collapse right there.
"Breathe," Jihwa whispered beside me. His.fingers brushed mine, steadying me, his touch warm against my ice-cold skin.
I forced air into my lungs. One step. Another. Until finally, I reached the stand.
The judge's voice boomed. "Raise your right hand."
I did, though it shook so badly I could barely keep it up. I swore the oath, my voice faint and cracking, barely audible. And then silence. Dozens of eyes bore into me.
"Testify," the judge ordered.
The prosecutor stepped forward, his tone gentle. "Mr. Dohyun, can you tell the court, in your own words, what Park Hyok did to you?"
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. My throat closed, chest burning. Memories pressed in all at once—the smell of his suffocating pheromones, the slam of doors locking, the echo of my own screams.
The prosecutor's voice softened. "Take your time. You're safe here."
Safe. The word felt foreign. I glanced to the side—Jihwa watching me, his lips trembling as he mouthed: You're not alone. Seojoon behind him, his presence steady and commanding like a wall I could lean on.
I swallowed hard. I forced myself to speak.
"H-he… he bought me."
The courtroom erupted with whispers. My voice cracked, but I pushed through. "When I turned thirteen, my uncle sold me to him to pay off debt. To Park Hyok he sold me too. And from that day on…" My chest heaved. "…I stopped being a person."
The prosecutor nodded gently. "Can you explain what you mean by that?"
My hands gripped the wood rail until my knuckles burned. "He… hurt me. Every day. He said I was weak, pathetic, worthless. And when I cried, he—he w-well t-touch…" My voice broke. I slapped a hand over my mouth, sob choked back.
Hyok's smirk widened. Shackles rattled as he leaned forward. I flinched, shrinking back instinctively.
The judge slammed his gavel. "Order!"
Tears blurred my vision. Still—I forced the words out. "He forced me. Again and again. He marked me. He chained me. He said I was his. And when I begged him to stop—he laughed."
My chest felt like it would rip apart. "He even… made sure I carried his child."
Gasps filled the room. My vision blurred completely as I covered my face, my shoulders shaking.
The prosecutor gave me a moment, then spoke firmly. "Do you see the man who did these things to you in this courtroom?"
My whole body shook. Slowly, I lifted my head. My eyes met Hyok's—still smirking, still triumphant even in chains.
"Yes." My voice was hoarse, but clear. "It was him. Park Hyok."
The judge's gavel slammed. "Let the record show the witness has identified the defendant."
I sank back, trembling, tears dripping onto the wood. Jihwa's hand found mine, squeezing tight. "You did it," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You were so brave."
For a moment, I believed him
Until the defense lawyer stood.
He adjusted his glasses, his tone smooth and cutting. "Mr. Han. You claim years of abuse. Yet you lived with my client all that time. You never once went to the police. You never ran away. Isn't that correct?"
My throat locked. "…I couldn't and when I had the chance–"
"Couldn't?" he interrupted. "Or wouldn't you? You ate his food. Slept in his bed. Didn't you choose to stay?"
My vision spun. "No! I didn't—"
"And yet," the lawyer pressed, circling me like prey, "you admit you carried his child. Tell me, Mr. Han—was that forced? Or was there consent?"
The word hit me like a whip. Consent. I gripped the stand until it hurt, shaking my head violently. "No. It wasn't—"
"Answer clearly!" he snapped. "Did you consent?"
Tears spilled freely, my voice rising raw, desperate. "No! I never consented! Not once! He took everything—my body, my freedom, my hope! I was sold! How is that consent?!"
The courtroom roared with voices. The judge slammed his gavel. "Order!"
My chest heaved, sobs tearing free. But I wasn't backing down. I turned toward Hyok—still smiling, even now—and I screamed through the tears:
"You think I stayed because I wanted to?! You think I chose you?! You locked me in your house like a dog! You broke me until I couldn't even cry anymore! You beated the crap out of me for every small thing and turned me.i to a dominant omega! That's not love. That's not consent. That's slavery. That's hell!"
The silence that followed was deafening. My whole body shook, but I stood taller, even as tears streamed down my face.
The defense lawyer faltered, words dying on his lips.
The judge's gaze hardened. "That's enough."
I collapsed back into the chair, sobbing quietly, Jihwa's arms wrapping around me, shielding me from the eyes of the world.
And for the first time, I felt it—maybe, just maybe—the truth was stronger than his chains.
The courtroom doors shut behind me with a heavy thud, sealing the noise inside. But the silence out here felt worse. It pressed against my ears until all I could hear was my own heartbeat, frantic and uneven, like it wanted to tear through my ribs.
My legs gave out the moment we reached the hallway bench. I slumped onto it, trembling so hard my teeth chattered. The wood beneath me was solid, but I felt like I was falling. Falling back into the dark, into his voice, his smile, the way he looked at me even in chains.
"Dohyun." Jihwa's voice was soft, but it cracked like glass. He crouched in front of me, her hands cradling mine, warm against my ice-cold skin. His eyes were wet, but fierce. "You were incredible in there. You told the truth. You—"
"I ruined it," I croaked. My throat was raw, every word a scrape of pain. "I shouted, I broke down, I… I made a fool of myself."
"No," he said quickly, shaking his head, tears slipping free. "You were brave. Do you hear me? Brave."
I wanted to believe him. But all I saw when I closed my eyes was Hyok's smirk, that cold certainty in his gaze, like even the law couldn't touch him.
Seojoon's footsteps approached, steady and heavy. He stopped beside me, his shadow falling over where I sat hunched. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but edged with steel.
"You didn't ruin anything. You gave them the truth. And the truth is the strongest weapon you have."
I swallowed hard, shaking. "But what if it's not enough? What if… what if they don't believe me?" My voice cracked, breaking on the last word. "What if he gets out? What if he comes for me?"
The thought alone made bile rise in my throat. I pressed a fist to my mouth, choking back the sob.
Seojoon crouched down, his eyes meeting mine. They weren't soft—they were sharp, steady, unyielding. But behind them was something else, something solid.
"Look at me, Dohyun."
I lifted my eyes, tears blurring his face.
"He won't touch you again. Not while I'm alive. That's my vow." His hand tightened on my shoulder, anchoring me. "Even if the system fails—even if every wall crumbles—I'll stand between him and you. I promise you and my son Jihwa."
It's funnt how a random stranger wants to help you.
But…
The words hit me harder than any gavel. My chest cracked open, sobs tearing free. I leaned forward, my forehead pressing against my hands, my whole body shaking.
"Why…" My voice broke into pieces. "Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't he just—just leave me alone?"
Jihwa slipped onto the bench beside me, wrapping his arms around me tight. "Because monsters don't stop until someone fights back," he whispered into my hair. "And you… you just fought back."
I cried harder, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. All the years, all the chains, all the nights I thought I'd never survive—it all poured out. And for once, I wasn't crying alone.
For the first time, the weight was shared.
The hallway was quiet except for the sound of my sobs. My chest hurt, each breath jagged, like glass tearing me apart from the inside.
Jihwa held me like I would slip through his arms if he let go. His tears dampened my shoulder, but he kept whispering, over and over, like a prayer:
"You're safe. You're safe. You're safe now."
But my mind replayed it—his eyes, his smile, the way he leaned forward in his chains as if none of this mattered. As if he still owned me. My whole body shook. "He's not scared," I rasped. "Not even here. He—he looked at me like—like I'll never be free."
Seojoon crouched in front of me again, his gaze steady, voice firm.
"Listen to me. He's scared. That's why he smirked. That's why he tried to make you falter. Because he knows the truth is stronger than him."
I shook my head, tears spilling faster. "What if the judge doesn't believe me? What if he gets out? What if he—" My voice cracked into a sob. "What if he comes for Jihwa? Or Hwan?"
The thought made me gag, my chest collapsing inward. My hands clawed at my knees, curling tight, trying to hold myself together.
Seojoon's hand came down on my shoulder, heavy and grounding. His voice was low, steady, unshakable.
"Dohyun. He will not touch you. He will not touch Jihwa. He will not touch anyone you love."
I looked up, broken, desperate.
His eyes burned with something I didn't expect. Not pity. Not softness. A vow. Iron.
"Even if the court fails, even if every law crumbles, I'll stand between him and you. As long as I breathe, he will never lay a hand on you again. That is my oath."
My throat clenched so hard I couldn't breathe. Tears blurred everything until I couldn't see, only feel—the warmth of Jihwa's arms, the weight of Seojoon's hand, the sound of my own sobs cracking open years of silence.
For so long, I had lived believing no one would ever fight for me. That I was disposable, worthless, nothing but what Hyok made me.
But here—here, in this hallway, with their voices surrounding me—something fragile and impossible flickered to life.
Hope.
I collapsed forward, my body trembling, and whispered through my tears:
"…Thank you."
And for the first time in years, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to fight alone ever again.