Louder
summary: Han Su-gang carries a memory that never healed, no matter how hard he tried to bury it. There’s no cruelty more painful than being truly seen. Not when the one who sees you comes back, and doesn’t forget.
pairing: Han Su-gang x fem!reader.
genre: dark angst / enemies to??
tw: bullying, offensive language, childhood trauma, physical violence, vulnerability.
You’d think the oldest memories would fade into the fog, but they don’t. Some stay trapped forever wedged beneath your skin like splinter as if your brain or maybe your heart, chose them, refused to ever let them go.
And there are days when you’d give anything for those memories to just disappear.
When you close your eyes, you can see it.
The sun streaming through the branches of the biggest tree. A swing creaking in the distance, children’s laughter tangled with far-off screams. Tiny shoes stomping through damp grass.
Even at five, he walked like everything belonged to him, maybe because it did. His uniform always spotless, his hair perfect. The way he looked down at others, like he was always a step above. The other kids followed him. They laughed when he laughed, went silent the second he told them to.
That afternoon, you saw him sitting under the cherry blossom tree, a little box of strawberry milk in his hands.
It was one of those rare moments when his expression would soften, and he’d smile for real. He sipped it carefully, like it was something sacred.
A bee started buzzing around him. Small, with dark wings and a glossy body. It danced in circles, drawn in by the sweetness of the milk.
—Ah… no, no! A bug!—he stammered, voice trembling as he flailed his arm, not knowing what to do.—Go away! That’s mine! Get off!
The other kids didn’t laugh.
Except you. You didn’t even think.
You pulled out your notebook and waved it like a fan, trying to chase the bee away.
Spinning, diving, rising.
But in the end, it flew off.
You smiled, proud of yourself.
—See? I got it! It’s not gonna bother you now.—you whispered with a little proud smile.
But Su-gang didn’t smile back.
He looked at you slowly with that expression that, even as a kid, already knew how to hurt.
—Go away!—he said, his voice sharp.
—But… I just wanted to help.
—I don’t need your help! Do you wanna get in trouble or something?!
He shouted, his face turning red with shame. His eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name.
At the notebook still in your hand.
He snatched it without asking, and without a word, threw it on the ground.
He stomped on your drawings, crushing them into the wet mud.
You took a step back, confused.
—Su-gang… why’d you do that?—you asked, your voice trembling on the edge of tears.
He spun around and yelled:
—You’re a monster! You’re so ugly, you’re scarier than the bee!
Grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You landed on the grass with a heavy thud, your uniform stained with mud. The same uniform your mom had ironed that very morning.
She had told you before you left:
“Please don’t get it dirty.”
Your eyes welled with tears, not from the fall but from what came next.
No one said a word. They just looked at you like he was right.
And childhood doesn’t forgive.
The days that followed were brutal. You became the perfect target, someone they could mess with and never get in trouble for it.
Games stopped being games.
Jokes started leaving marks.
“We were just playing” was never true. The teacher said kids “don’t mean to be cruel” that “they’re just playing.”
The next day you didn't want to go to class.
And the next week, you didn't come back.
There was no mistaking it. Even after all this time, even though you weren’t five years old anymore. He hadn’t changed. That same arrogant posture, same look like the world was beneath him.
And he didn’t recognize you, of course not.
Not with the new face you’d built for yourself out of pain, because you had changed. You’d rebuilt yourself, head to toe. You were no longer the little girl he had torn apart, piece by piece.
You remembered everything. Every time he made you feel like a mistake.
Every word, every shove, every time he called you a monster. Every single day you cried in front of the mirror wishing you could tear your face off. And all those times you told yourself the same thing… until you started to believe it.
Because if Su-gang had forgotten who you were… you were about to remind him.
And when you did it you knew he’d understand. That it would twist his stomach. You knew he’d come looking for you.
You were at your locker, putting books away, when you heard it. Fast, sharp footsteps—like a threat echoing down the hall.
Before you could even turn, he was already behind you, he slammed your locker shut, the bang loud enough to make everyone in the hallway look.
—What the hell do you think you’re doing?
—You talking to me?—you asked, still not facing him.
—Don’t play dumb. The strawberry milk on my desk. Was that some kind of joke?
Every heartbeat under control. You looked him in the eyes—for the first time since you were kids.
—What do you want?—he asked.—Attention? Is that it? You wanna laugh at me in front of everyone?
—Oh, is that what you think? That I came back for attention?
—Why are you acting like this? Why are you talking like you know me?
—And why are you acting like you don’t? Maybe that’s it, maybe you don’t recognize me anymore… because I stopped being the monster you used to be afraid of.
—What the fuck are you talking about?
—I'm talking about you. The boy who crushed me, the one who called me a monster so many times that I ended up believing it. You really don’t remember?
And for a second, his face changed.
—I don’t remember.—he said.—But if it’s true, if I really did that to you… then I’m sorry.
Closer than necessary, closer than anyone watching would’ve thought appropriate.
Your voice was firm. Cruel.
—Don't you dare. Don't you dare apologize to me, I didn't ask you to apologize.
His eyes didn’t know where to land. Your face made him uncomfortable, not because it was unpleasant but because you were the living proof of everything he’d tried to bury.
The echo of a cruelty he could no longer deny.
—You don’t even know what that word means.—you said.—So don’t use it.
He looked away. He wanted to react, say something.
Mock you, act like he was still above it all.
But he couldn’t because the air between you was too heavy.
And for a moment, it was him who stepped back.
That back then, in the kindergarten yard—when you chased away that bee for him—Su-gang didn’t react with hate… he reacted with fear.
Not of you but of what he felt.
That quiet attention. That presence he couldn’t explain. That made him feel vulnerable.
—I…—he stammered, lowering his gaze for the first time.
—You don’t have to explain. I’m not interested in your half-assed regret.
And then, you let it out. Everything you’d held in for years. Words that hurt more than any insult. More than any memory.
—Maybe the problem isn’t me, Su-gang.
His breath caught in his throat.
—Maybe the problem is you never learned how to deal with what you feel.
You looked him in the eye and you spoke like you were peeling him apart, layer by layer.
—Not back then, and not now.
Su-gang blinked, like waking from a dream.
But he didn’t say another word. He couldn’t.
Because for the first time in his life…
Omg that’s such a sweet comment 😭🩷 I wanted to give it a bit of a twist and a different vibe, hope you enjoy it. 🫶🏻🫶🏻
I started writing the first Suho one shot and BRO… it’s breaking my heart 😿 I kinda don’t wanna finish it.
