J wants to protest again, and he still thinks he's right, but debating the precise cause of his hurt might not actually be all that helpful. It was the fact that S stopped playing that set his thoughts in motion, so in that respect, maybe it's true. He just doesn't think it's the same thing, when he knows what hurts is what he's lost and his own role in that.

Besides, what S says first is too wrong for the rest to matter. "I did though," he says quietly. "It's... Sihyun-ah, it's okay that you stopped. I understand." He forces himself to take a slow, shuddering breath, drawing his head back enough to glance up at S. There's no use in pretend he's not teary, no use in hiding that, and he wants to see S, wants S to see him. Hiding doesn't make this all that much easier anyway. "That's what hurts. I understand. All the reasons why you — why you wouldn't want to play around me anymore. I can't be upset with you or mad at you for it. It makes sense. And that hurts. I did this. I made things like this." He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head. "I can't undo it, I know that." If anything, that makes it hurt more, and makes that pain all the more pointless. He wants S to play, if that's what S wants. Voicing this isn't going to help with that.

But, he reminds himself, neither will silence. Keeping S out has never helped. It's part of what caused all this to begin with. No matter how hard it is to talk about this, how his jaw trembles and his voice shakes, he can't repeat those mistakes again. There's too much he can't fix, but he can at least do his best not to make things worse or let it get bad again.