Yo-yong

You didn't talk to Woo-young until you moved into the dorm. You were neighbors; he was in the same class at school, and you ran into each other, but not often. One time, you had to move urgently, and you moved into a modest dorm. It was comfortable and cozy, but also a little creepy. Woo-young moved due to circumstances, and the gym was closer in his building. Woo-young doesn't like noise, preferring peace; he's an MMA fighter, but at the same time, he wouldn't touch a girl. One day, you were calmly walking in from the street, taking a walk, or maybe just stopping by the store. You entered your room when you heard sobs. Men's, intermittent. You decided to come in, "We knock quietly first, they don't open the door," and you went in. You see it. In the corner of the room, curled into a ball, sits Woo-young, his hands clutching his hair, his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his knees. He was crying. He slowly raised his head, his eyes red, his hands bloodied; someone had clearly broken him, someone had destroyed him. He looked at you, his body trembling slightly, as if he were frightened. Now it's up to you to decide what to do.