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The concert had been perfect.
Lights flooded the stadium in waves of red and white, thousands of lightsticks of STAY glowing in synchronized patterns that looked almost like a living ocean. The crowd roared with every movement on stage. Music vibrated through the speakers and through the floor beneath their feet.
Han Jisung lived for moments like this.
He was halfway through the bridge of the song, breathless from dancing and adrenaline, when everything went wrong.
It happened quickly.
A loud metallic crack echoed above the stage. At first it sounded like a piece of equipment shifting. For a split second nobody reacted.
Then the support beam snapped.
The lighting rig above them lurched violently. Crew members shouted from the wings. Someone screamed.
Han looked up just in time to see the metal beam collapse.
The impact was thunderous.
For the audience it happened so fast it barely registered. For the members of Stray Kids standing on stage, the moment stretched into something slow and terrifying.
The beam crashed down across the stage.
It struck Han directly.
The sound that left his body was not even a scream. It was a short, strangled breath before the weight crushed him into the floor.
The music stopped.
Everything dissolved into chaos.
They rushed him to the hospital in a blur of sirens and flashing lights.
By the time they arrived, Han’s pulse had already stopped once.
Doctors fought to bring him back.
They shocked his heart.
They forced air into his lungs.
They pumped medication into his veins while shouting instructions across the room.
For several long minutes his body refused to respond.
Then finally, faint and unstable, his heart started beating again.
It was weak.
Dangerously weak.
The doctors moved quickly, stabilizing him, hooking him up to machines that breathed and pumped and monitored every fragile rhythm of his body.
Hours later the members sat in the waiting room, silent and exhausted.
Bang Chan stood with the doctor while the others waited nearby.
“His heart was severely damaged,” the doctor said carefully. “The trauma from the impact caused extensive internal injuries.”
Chan swallowed hard.
“What does that mean?”
The doctor hesitated.
“It means that even if he survives the next twenty four hours, his heart will not recover on its own.”
Chan felt the words before he understood them.
“What are you saying?”
“He will need a transplant.”
Lee Know didn’t speak for a long time after hearing the news.
He stood against the wall of the waiting room, arms folded tightly, staring at the floor.
A transplant.
Han needed a new heart.
The words kept repeating in his mind, refusing to settle into something he could accept.
The doctor had explained everything. The transplant list. The waiting time. The logistics of donor availability.
Even in the best case scenario, the wait could be weeks.
Han didn’t have weeks.
Lee Know listened to Chan relay the information to the others. Their reactions filled the room with disbelief and quiet grief.
Changbin swore under his breath.
Felix wiped his face with shaking hands.
Hyunjin leaned forward with his head buried in his palms.
But Lee Know stayed silent.
Because something inside him had already begun forming.
He spent the rest of the day walking.
He wandered through the hospital corridors, through nearby streets, through quiet corners of the building where no one would recognize him.
Every step carried the same thought.
Han would die.
Lee Know had always imagined losing people eventually. Everyone did at some point. But he had never imagined losing Han.
Han, who burst into rooms like a storm of laughter.
Han, who wrote songs at three in the morning and then played them excitedly for everyone the next day.
Han, who clung to him during horror movies even though he insisted he was not scared.
Their relationship had grown slowly over years of shared rooms, rehearsals, fights, jokes, and sleepless nights.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Han had become the person Lee Know loved most.
The idea of the world continuing without him felt impossible.
Lee Know sat on a bench outside the hospital as evening settled into night.
The city lights flickered on around him.
Inside the building above, machines kept Han alive.
Lee Know stared at his hands.
A transplant.
A heart.
The waiting list was long.
But hearts could come from somewhere else.
He already knew the answer.
He had known it the moment the doctor finished speaking.
That night he walked back into the hospital.
Chan was still awake in the waiting room.
“You should sleep,” Chan said quietly.
Lee Know shook his head.
“I need to talk to someone first.”
Chan frowned slightly but did not question it.
Lee Know found the doctor from earlier and asked to speak privately. They sat in a quiet office with the door closed. Lee Know explained his decision calmly.
The doctor stared at him.
“You understand what you’re asking.”
“Yes.”
“You will die.”
“I know.”
“And even then, there is only a sixty percent chance the transplant will succeed.”
Lee Know nodded.
“I know.”
The doctor studied him for a long moment.
“Why would you do this?”
Lee Know looked down at his hands again.
“Because he deserves to live.”
When Lee Know returned to the waiting room, all the members were there. They had sensed something was wrong.
Chan stood up immediately.
“What did the doctor say?”
Lee Know sat down across from them, slowly taking his time to slide into his seat.
“I’m the donor.”
Silence fell like a weight across the room.
Felix blinked.
“What?”
“I told the hospital I’ll donate my heart.”
Changbin stood up so suddenly his chair scraped loudly against the floor.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Hyunjin stared at him in disbelief.
“You’re serious.”
Lee Know nodded.
The room erupted.
“No,” Chan said instantly.
“You can’t do that,” Seungmin added.
“You’ll die,” I.N. said, his voice breaking.
Lee Know listened to them quietly.
“I already signed the papers.”
Chan shook his head.
“We’ll find another way.”
“There isn’t another way.”
Changbin paced the room in frustration.
“Sixty percent isn’t even guaranteed.”
“I know.”
“So why would you throw your life away for that?”
Lee Know looked up at them.
“Because if I don’t, he dies.”
No one had an answer for that.
They spent the night together anyway.
None of them wanted to sleep.
Someone suggested watching a movie, though nobody was really paying attention to the screen.
They sat close together on the couch in the small lounge room.
Felix leaned against Changbin.
Hyunjin rested his head on Chan’s shoulder.
Lee Know sat quietly in the middle of them.
The movie played on.
Occasionally someone laughed at a joke, but the laughter always faded too quickly. The air felt heavy with everything they were trying not to say.
At one point Chan turned toward Lee Know.
“You’re really not going to change your mind.”
Lee Know shook his head.
“No.”
Chan swallowed.
“You’re an idiot.”
Lee Know smiled faintly.
“Probably.”
They stayed like that until the sky outside began to lighten.
Early that morning Lee Know sat alone with a pen and paper.
The hospital room was quiet except for the distant hum of machines.
Han was sleeping down the hall, still unconscious.
Lee Know stared at the blank page for a long time.
Then he started writing.
By the time the nurses came to prepare him for surgery, the letter was finished.
He folded it carefully and wrote a name across the front.
To my dearest Hannie
Chan was waiting outside the room.
Lee Know handed him the envelope.
“Give this to him when he wakes up.”
Chan’s hands trembled slightly as he took it.
“You still have time to back out.”
Lee Know smiled.
“I know.”
The others gathered nearby.
Goodbyes were quiet and painful.
Felix hugged him first and refused to let go for several seconds.
Changbin punched his shoulder before pulling him into a tight embrace.
Hyunjin wiped his eyes openly.
Seungmin said nothing but held his hand firmly.
I.N sobbed into his neck.
Chan hugged him last.
“You better be right about this,” Chan whispered.
Lee Know nodded.
“I am.”
The nurses finally led him toward the operating room.
As the doors closed behind him, he felt strangely calm.
The anesthesiologist spoke softly while preparing the medication.
“Think about something pleasant.”
Lee Know closed his eyes.
He thought about Han laughing during rehearsals.
About late night conversations.
About the way Han called his name when he wanted attention.
He thought about how much he loved him.
Then the world slowly faded into darkness for the final time.
Han woke up two weeks later.
The first thing he noticed was the quiet. The second was the strange heaviness in his chest.
His vision blurred in and out as he struggled to focus. Machines beeped steadily beside the bed. The door opened. All the members walked in together.
All except one.
They looked exhausted.
Chan had dark circles under his eyes.
Felix looked like he had not slept in days.
Changbin stood stiffly near the wall.
Han studied their faces.
Something was wrong.
“Hey,” he croaked.
Chan forced a smile.
“Hey.”
Han swallowed.
“Where,” he coughed “- where’s Lee Know?”
The room fell silent.
Han felt the cold dread settle in his stomach.
“Where is he?”
No one answered.
“Did something happen?”
The doctor stepped forward gently.
“Would you like me to break the news?”
Han’s heart sank at the phrase.
Break the news.
Chan shook his head quickly.
“No. We’ll tell him.”
He sat down beside the bed.
“There’s no easy way to say this.”
Han’s chest tightened.
“Chan.”
Chan’s voice trembled.
“Lee Know… donated his heart to save you.”
Han stared at him.
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re lying.”
Chan placed a folder on the bed.
Inside were the medical documents. Confirmation of the transplant. Confirmation of Lee Know’s death.
Han’s hands started shaking.
“No.”
His voice broke.
“No.”
The room blurred through tears.
He shook his head over and over.
“He wouldn’t do that.”
But he had.
Han cried for days. Nothing the members said could comfort him as he let grief hollow him out completely. Eventually the doctors allowed him to go home.
The dorm felt different without Lee Know.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
That night Han waited until everyone had gone to sleep.
Then he walked down the hallway.
He stopped in front of Lee Know’s door.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
The room was untouched.
Clothes folded neatly.
Books stacked beside the bed.
The faint scent of Lee Know lingered in the air.
Memories flooded his mind with every step he took.
Han collapsed onto the floor.
“Why couldn’t you just stay,” he whispered.
His voice cracked into sobs.
“I should’ve died. You should’ve let me die.”
Eventually the tears faded into numb exhaustion.
Han stood slowly and turned toward the door.
That was when he saw it.
An envelope resting on the bedside table.
To my dearest Hannie
His hands shook as he opened it.
Hey Hannie,
You must be pretty pissed at me, right?
If you’re reading this then it means the surgery worked. If it didn’t, then I guess we’re both in heaven together, which honestly doesn’t sound too bad.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably blaming yourself. You’re probably angry that I didn’t tell you first.
But listen carefully.
None of this is your fault.
I made this decision because I wanted to.
You once told me that living meant creating music, laughing with people you love, and finding reasons to keep going even when things get hard. I want you to keep doing that.
If you’re alive, then it means this was worth it.
I never once regretted choosing you.
Not even for a second.
So don’t you dare regret being alive.
That would make my sacrifice pretty pointless, wouldn’t it?
You have the rest of your life now. Live it loudly. Write songs. Annoy the members. Eat too many snacks at midnight.
And please take care of my cats.
Also, for the record, at least you know you’ll always have my heart. lol. Sorry jagi, too soon I guess.
This isn’t really goodbye.
Just goodbye for now.
I’m sure in our next lives we’ll find each other again somehow.
With all my heart,
Lee Know