[Kija hardly dares try and touch Yoon. He wants to reach out to him, to rest a hand (not that one) on his shoulder, to reassure him: he knows that he cannot, that it will not help, that it will only make things worse, as if they can be. The boy does not know him: he is staring at him as if he is a stranger - worse, a threat. He has dropped to his knees by Yoon's side, and all that seems to be good for is getting sand in his shoes...
[His chest feels tight, and tears queue up behind his eyelids and all he can think is please, please say this isn't all it takes--!
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[But he stopped. He has stopped.
[Is that not enough?
[Kija hardly dares try and touch Yoon. He wants to reach out to him, to rest a hand (not that one) on his shoulder, to reassure him: he knows that he cannot, that it will not help, that it will only make things worse, as if they can be. The boy does not know him: he is staring at him as if he is a stranger - worse, a threat. He has dropped to his knees by Yoon's side, and all that seems to be good for is getting sand in his shoes...
[His chest feels tight, and tears queue up behind his eyelids and all he can think is please, please say this isn't all it takes--!
[I didn't mean it.]
I'm sorry--
[Is it safe to say his name again?
[Kija. Sorry will not help.]