ASD 10

“…What is this?”

Gawon stared at Gijun, who had sat down in front of him with a nonchalant expression, with a look of utter bewilderment.

Gawon, who had been sitting alone at a four-person table like an isolated island in a faraway place, seemed quite flustered when Gijun sat in front of him without any warning.

In fact, Gijun had wanted to sit in front of Gawon just like this starting from the very next day, yesterday, when he had asked Gawon to eat with him and been rejected. However, his plan had gone up in smoke because his homeroom teacher had called him to ask something about his transfer documents.

After moderately fending off the guys who were clinging to him, asking to eat together, he went down to the cafeteria late, but Gawon had already finished his meal. Gijun could only stare blankly at Gawon’s back as he cleared his tray.

Gijun had always been popular, and he was aware of that fact himself. His looks that drew others in, his overwhelmingly tall stature, his easygoing personality, his athletic ability, and his deep pockets were the main factors that made his peers go wild for him.

He was always in a position to be surrounded by kids without even trying, and for that reason, he had almost no experience of being rejected by someone.

But Yoon Gawon, of all people, consistently pushed him away. His usual gaze was dulled, as if tired from listlessness or steeped in melancholy, but when he was dealing with Gijun, his eyes would be on high alert.

Even when he tried approaching him with his trademark smug yet likable face, he would only flinch and soften for a moment before immediately pushing Gijun away with an exceedingly cold tone and gaze.

He was dumbfounded. His pride was a little hurt, too. Nevertheless, the reason Gijun kept trying to cozy up to Yoon Gawon, like a dog pushing its head against its constantly scolding owner, was because the kid’s rejection didn’t feel sincere at all.

Yoon Gawon seemed like someone who was pushing him away out of necessity, because he had to. He tried to hide it with what he thought was a cold and ruthless tone, but Gijun keenly read the signs.

Beneath the thick layer that enveloped the kid, he saw a self that was thirsty for attention. Gijun had snatched up, like a sniffer dog, the moment a fierce storm had risen in those transparent eyes when he had called his name.

Such clues were adding a layer, and then another, to his liking for Gawon, subtly increasing its thickness bit by bit. Even Gijun himself didn’t clearly know the reason for it.

Yoon Gawon resembled Sunny, the cat he was raising. The reason he had felt a liking for the kid at first was simply that. It was a trivial and insignificant reason.

But unexpectedly, his liking for Gawon was growing in a direction Gijun had not anticipated. It was arbitrarily bulking up, its nature beginning to change ever so slightly.

So Gijun wanted to know. The reason he was inexplicably drawn to this kid. Since the unknown always brought discomfort, Gijun chose to tackle it head-on by approaching Gawon.

“I told you yesterday. I always eat alone.”

Of course, as always, Yoon Gawon was not easy. At his sharp and chilly tone, Gijun let his eyebrows droop and put on a pitiful expression.

“Please just eat with me today. It’s boring to eat alone.”

“Hah…”

The kid let out a deep sigh and, as if resigned, dropped his gaze to his tray. He had anticipated cases where he would argue, asking if there weren’t other kids to eat with, or get up with his tray and go somewhere else, but surprisingly, Gawon didn’t do that. Just that alone made Gijun a little excited, and he beamed with a smile.

“Eat up, Gawon.”

“…You too.”

When he greeted the kid, making gentle eye contact, a small, reluctant reply came back. Hearing the blunt and short response, Gijun was once again convinced. Gawon definitely didn’t dislike him sincerely.

Gijun stole glances at Gawon as he used his spoon. He was continuing his meal with his head down, expressionless.

The way he chews with his mouth closed is just like a rabbit diligently munching on something like clover. The thought almost made him chuckle, but Gijun managed to hold it in by covering his mouth with his hand. He couldn’t get kicked out already from a seat he had worked so hard to get.

A clean and solitary gaze, one that expected nothing. The kid’s downward-cast gaze was so empty. But the moment Gawon unthinkingly lifted his eyes and looked at Gijun’s tray, a flicker of color appeared in his vacant eyes.

“…Can you eat all that?”

“Huh? Of course.”

Although Gawon was horrified by the amount of food piled high on Gijun’s tray… it was still better than an expressionless face. Gijun grinned.

“Why? Because I look like too much of a pig?”

“That’s… not it, just that it looks like it would make you full.”

“I’ve always eaten a lot. Because I’ve been doing sports since I was young.”

Gijun smiled refreshingly, making eye contact with Gawon. He didn’t know why, but just looking at Gawon made him want to smile like that.

He wasn’t expecting a reply. He knew Gawon wasn’t the talkative type, and also that he didn’t possess even a tenth of the curiosity other kids had about him.

“…What kind of sport do you do?”

Therefore, Gijun couldn’t help but be surprised when he heard Gawon’s carefully returned question. His eyes widened, and he swallowed the rice he had been chewing with a gulp.

“Me? Mixed martial arts.”

“Do you do it because it’s fun?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

A cool smile spread across Gijun’s face. His eyes sparkled as if he were dreaming. The thrilling anticipation he felt while wearing headgear in the ring, the addictive sensation that flowed through his whole body when he competed, clashing bodies with other males of a similar build. Just imagining it was enjoyable and exciting.

“I’m jealous of you.”

Just then, Gawon’s small voice was heard. Gijun tilted his head slightly and looked at the kid.

“Why?”

“You can… beat up all the guys you don’t like.”

The kid said that without a smile.

I’m jealous you can go around beating anyone up. The kids who surrounded Gijun would say things like that, casting looks of admiration. Gijun felt displeasure every time he heard the words of the kids who treated the sport he loved in a light and low-quality manner.

But the words that came out of Gawon’s mouth had a slightly different feel to them. The scene of Gawon being helplessly beaten by that b**t**d named Heo Jaegu or whatever immediately came to mind. It clearly didn’t look like bullying that had only been going on for a day or two.

“…That b**t**d who was acting up behind the classroom the other day.”

For some reason, his chest felt a little tight. Gijun opened his mouth heavily.

“You’re talking about that b**t**d, right.”

His voice was low. Gawon, who had been quietly staring at his tray, slowly shook his head.

“No. Never mind about me.”

“…”

The gaze that had been filled with life for a moment lost its strength and fell. Gijun’s gaze lingered on Gawon’s tray, where the food remained almost untouched, unlike his own, which was already half-empty.

“Um… actually, kids who do sports can’t just go around hitting people.”

A small wish for color to return to Gawon’s eyes opened Gijun’s mouth. It was a rare occurrence for Gijun, who seldom shared stories about himself.

“And I don’t do sports to beat people up, either.”

“Then why do you do it?”

A straightforward question reached Gijun.

In that moment, a downpour that had been falling in the hazy air drenched Gijun. The smell of blood mixed with the suffocatingly humid air, the blood that flowed into and pooled in the muddy water, the moment his vision went white and a sharp ringing tore through his ears.

In an instant, cold sweat pooled in his palms. The breath he let out in a rush wavered precariously. The afterimage of the past was still so powerful. But Gijun soon skillfully composed his agitation.

“…It’s actually the opposite.”

Gijun, who had conveyed his meaning vaguely, gave a noncommittal smile. Gawon looked at Gijun quietly for a moment but did not ask any more about it.

From time to time, when the afterimage of the past would surface and panic would take over his chest, Gijun would always be at a loss. On those days, he wouldn’t even spar for fear of hurting someone. He would run until the sky turned yellow and he felt like throwing up, and he would punch the sandbag, struggling desperately. Because he wanted to run away, to escape from that afterimage.

But, right now.

“I see. …Sorry.”

“…For what?”

“For what I said earlier, about being jealous that you could beat up anyone.”

It was a small voice, but Gawon had clearly said it. Then he slowly started eating with his spoon again.

Gijun liked Gawon’s apology, which was offered concisely without any added comments. So much so that the afterimage of the past quickly faded.

Gijun, who had been looking at Gawon for a moment, picked up his spoon and chopsticks as well. He ate for a long, long time, matching the pace of the kid who was emptying his tray at a slow speed, but until the very end.