Apology to Heaven
San, tormented by the shadow of his own actions, overwhelmed by regret for driving away his closest friend, Wooyoung. He pleads for divine forgiveness, realizing too late the extent of his loss and the irreplaceable light Wooyoung brought into his life, leaving him determined to seek redemption.
tags :: angst, regret, woosan au, guilt, redemption
wc :: 1,584
cast :: wooyoung, san
song :: mis - alex g
The sun was setting over the small coastal town of Jeju, casting long, golden shadows across the water. The air was cool, carrying the scent of the ocean and the distant calls of seagulls. It was a peaceful place, where the sky met the earth in a seamless embrace, and for anyone who came here, it felt as though time stood still.
For Choi San, this town had always been his haven, a place where he could escape the weight of his responsibilities and the burdens of his own making. But today, it felt different. The air was heavier, and the sky, usually painted in calming hues of pink and orange, seemed more distant, as though it was pulling away from him. He walked along the shoreline, his hands in his pockets, his thoughts far from the beauty surrounding him.
San wasnât a demon, not in the traditional sense, but he carried darkness within him, a shadow that had clung to him for as long as he could remember. He wasnât born with it, but over time, through his actions and choices, it had grown, enveloping him like a second skin. And now, that shadow felt heavier than ever.
His thoughts wandered to Wooyoung, the boy with the angelic smile and a heart that seemed too pure for this world. Wooyoung was everything San wasnât. He was light where San was dark, joy where San was pain, and innocence where San was guilt. They had been friends for as long as San could remember, but somewhere along the way, their paths had diverged, with San sinking deeper into his darkness, while Wooyoung remained a beacon of light.
San had always known Wooyoung was special, different from everyone else. He had this aura, a glow that seemed to radiate from within, drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But it wasnât just his appearance; it was something deeper, something that made Sanâs chest tighten with emotions he couldnât quite understand.
There was a time when San had felt like he was drowning, consumed by his own anger, bitterness, and regret. It was during one of those dark moments that Wooyoung had appeared, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. Wooyoung had reached out to him, his hand warm and reassuring, his smile so bright that it hurt to look at. And for a moment, just a moment, San had felt like he could breathe again.
But that moment didnât last. Sanâs darkness was too strong, too consuming. He couldnât escape it, no matter how hard he tried. And in his desperation, in his fear of being consumed by the very thing he had become, he did something unforgivable.
He pushed Wooyoung away.
It wasnât just a physical push, though there had been moments when Sanâs frustration had boiled over, and heâd lashed out. It was a push that came from deep within, a rejection of the light that Wooyoung brought into his life. San couldnât bear to see his own reflection in Wooyoungâs eyes, couldnât stand the way Wooyoung looked at him like he was worth saving, like he was still the boy Wooyoung had known all those years ago.
So San had done the only thing he knew how to do. He hurt Wooyoung. With words, with actions, with cold indifference. He had driven him away, thinking that if Wooyoung wasnât around, the light wouldnât be either. He thought that maybe, just maybe, the darkness would be easier to bear without that blinding brightness beside him.
But he was wrong.
The moment Wooyoung left, San felt the weight of his own choices crush him. The darkness didnât recede; it grew, filling the void Wooyoung had left behind. San realized, too late, that Wooyoung wasnât just a friend; he was the only thing keeping San from completely losing himself.
And now, as San stood on the shoreline, watching the waves crash against the rocks, he felt the full force of his regret. He hadnât seen Wooyoung in months, not since that last argument, not since San had said things he couldnât take back. The guilt was overwhelming, a constant ache in his chest that no amount of time or distance could dull.
Sanâs mind drifted to the last time he had seen Wooyoung. It had been a rainy day, the kind that made the world seem small and gray. They had met at their usual spot, a small cafĂŠ near the waterâs edge. Wooyoung had looked tired, his usual spark dimmed, and San had known, deep down, that it was his fault.
âI canât do this anymore, San,â Wooyoung had said, his voice trembling. âIâve tried to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away. I donât know what else to do.â
San had said nothing, just stared at the table, unable to meet Wooyoungâs eyes. He had wanted to say something, anything, to make it better, but the words wouldnât come. All he could think about was the pain in Wooyoungâs voice, the way his hands trembled as he tried to hold back tears.
âIâm sorry,â Wooyoung had whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. âBut I canât keep doing this. I canât keep watching you destroy yourself.â
And with that, Wooyoung had left, his footsteps echoing in the empty cafĂŠ, leaving San alone with his thoughts and his guilt.
That was the last time San had seen him, and it was the memory that haunted him every day since.
San walked further along the shore, his thoughts heavy, his heart heavier. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, painting the sky in shades of red and gold. He stopped, looking out at the water, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
âFor what felt like the first time in forever, I clasped my hands together,â San whispered to the empty beach, his voice shaking. âI looked up at the sky, and I apologized to God for what I did to His angel.â
The words hung in the air, carried away by the wind. Sanâs eyes filled with tears, his chest tight with the weight of his confession. He had never been religious, had never believed in a higher power, but in that moment, he felt a desperate need to believe that someone, something, was listening.
âIâm sorry, Wooyoung,â he whispered, his voice breaking. âIâm so sorry.â
The sky darkened, the first stars appearing in the twilight. San stood there, his heart heavy, his mind filled with memories of the boy he had once called his best friend. He knew that an apology, no matter how sincere, wouldnât erase the pain he had caused. It wouldnât bring Wooyoung back, wouldnât undo the damage he had done.
But it was all he had left to give.
San stayed there until the last light of day had faded, until the stars were the only light in the sky. He watched the waves, listened to the sound of the ocean, and let himself feel the full weight of his regret. It was a painful, agonizing feeling, but it was one he knew he deserved.
Finally, when the cold night air began to seep into his bones, San turned and walked back toward the town. The streets were quiet, the shops closed, and the only sound was the distant hum of the ocean. Sanâs steps were slow, his mind still lost in memories of Wooyoung.
As he walked, he thought about all the times Wooyoung had been there for him, all the times he had reached out, only to be pushed away. San had been so consumed by his own darkness that he hadnât seen the pain he was causing, hadnât realized how much Wooyoung was hurting until it was too late.
He thought about the look in Wooyoungâs eyes that last day, the way his hands had trembled as he tried to keep himself together. San had never seen Wooyoung so broken, so defeated, and it had been like a knife to his heart. He had wanted to reach out, to take Wooyoungâs hand and tell him that everything would be okay, that they would find a way through the darkness together.
But he hadnât. And now, that chance was gone.
San stopped in front of a small, unassuming house on the edge of town. The lights were off, the windows dark. It was Wooyoungâs house, the place where they had spent countless hours together, talking, laughing, dreaming about the future. It was a place filled with memories, both good and bad, and standing there now, San felt like he was drowning in them.
He reached out, his hand hovering over the door handle. He wanted to knock, to see Wooyoungâs face, to say all the things he hadnât been able to say before. But his hand dropped to his side, and he stepped back, unable to bring himself to do it.
He wasnât ready. He didnât deserve Wooyoungâs forgiveness, not yet. Maybe not ever.
With a heavy heart, San turned away from the house and began to walk back toward the shore. The night was still, the only sound the soft crunch of sand beneath his feet. He didnât know where he was going, didnât know what he would do next. All he knew was that he needed to find a way to atone for what he had done, to make amends for the pain he had caused.
He needed to find Wooyoung.
