ONCE MINE, STILL TROUBLE - Weak hero class 2 - Baku - Park Humin

Chapter 25 - Unexpected secrets.

Baku sat quietly on the edge of the worn-out armchair, his eyes fixed on his father's sleeping form sprawled across the living room couch.

There was a deep ache in his chest; seeing his father like this — exhausted, fragile, yet finally free — stirred a mix of relief and pain inside him.

He knew his father hadn't always treated him well, that harsh words and anger had often replaced affection, but still... he was his father. And Baku loved him, flawed as he was.

At least Baekjin had kept his promise — his father was home now, safe, or so Baku hoped.

He had already decided he wouldn't go to school today; instead, he'd stay home, make sure his father was okay, maybe cook something for him.

But his thoughts were cut short when his father stirred, groaning as he rubbed his face and slowly opened his eyes. The moment their gazes met, instead of the relief Baku expected, his father's expression twisted into irritation.

"What are you staring at me for?" his father snapped, voice raspy but sharp.

Baku blinked, taken aback, and said quietly, "I just... wanted to make sure you're alright, dad."

"I don't need you hovering over me like I'm some helpless child," his father barked, sitting up abruptly. "Go to school. Don't you have something better to do?"

Baku's hands curled into fists in his lap, but he kept his voice steady. "I wanted to be here for you. After everything—"

"After everything what? Stop trying to make the things better, when you know that you're just a punk that doesn't care about anything but my money.." his father cut him off, his glare almost daring Baku to answer.

Something inside Baku snapped.

He pushed himself up from the chair, his voice trembling with both anger and hurt as he stepped toward his father. "I am the punk? What the fuck, dad...? — where did all those unpaid fines come from? All those debts? What have you been doing?"

His father's eyes narrowed, and instead of answering, he spat out a string of curses. "It's none of your damn business! You should show some respect — everything I've ever done was to raise you!"

Baku let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Raise me? It feels more like I'm the one raising you, not the other way around!"

That was the breaking point.

His father's face darkened, his hands clenching at his sides before he shot up from the couch in one swift motion. Without warning, he struck Baku across the face. The sharp sting burned against Baku's skin, but his expression barely changed — he was used to this.

"Don't you ever raise your voice at me like that again," his father growled, pointing a finger at him. "Or I swear, I'll throw you out of this house, and you'll see how far you get on your own."

Baku's jaw tightened, his voice low but trembling with frustration. "You know what? I don't even know why I bother trying to keep you safe anymore. I deal with your messes—every single time—just to make sure nothing worse happens to you. And for what? So you can sit here and treat me like I'm the problem?"

His father snorted, waving a dismissive hand like swatting away an annoying fly. "Oh, give me a break. Stop acting like some hero. You're not saving me from anything."

"I'm not acting like a hero," Baku shot back, stepping forward, his voice rising despite the lump in his throat. "I'm trying to build a life that doesn't end up like this! You think I like coming home to see you with all bills stacked on the table, debt collectors knocking at the door? You think this is the future I want? No, dad. This is fucked up."