ASD 22

For the past few days, he had been eating late-night snacks with Gijun. The day before yesterday, it was hamburgers. Yesterday, it was the udon place they went to before. Today, they decided to eat simply and had gimbap and tteokbokki at a snack shop in front of the school. Unable to break Gijun’s stubborn insistence on walking him all the way home, they walked side by side to Gawon’s house.

At this rate, meeting Gijun at night to eat something was going to become a habit. But he didn’t mind. It was common to feel hungry after studying late into the night. He never had the luxury to get a late-night snack, so it had become a habit to sleep with a rumbling stomach. But eating something warm and delicious before bed actually helped him sleep better.

Actually, whether or not he ate a late-night snack was a secondary issue. He simply liked meeting Gijun like this at night. The silly conversations he shared with the boy. The warm, affectionate gazes they exchanged. The high body temperature he felt when Gijun occasionally moved closer and the pleasant scent that made his heart pound.

Gawon had never had a proper friend before. That was why he couldn’t help but be confused. He wondered if this was simply the kind of connection friends share. He wondered if this was how boys normally hung out.

He knew that Gijun’s personality was generally affectionate. But… that didn’t mean he was like this with his other friends. He didn’t look at any of the other guys in the classroom with such a gentle gaze. He only ever walked Gawon all the way to his front door, stroked his hair, or kept buying him delicious food. It was only for him.

Why would Gijun give me preferential treatment? No matter how many times he censored himself with self-deprecating thoughts, saying he was thinking of himself as too special, the conclusion was the same. With other kids, Gijun acted no differently than any other high school boy.

For instance… he could tell just by seeing things like Gijun putting them in headlocks, or the rough way he’d shove them around while playing. He’d fire back with his own mischievous words without hesitation when they teased him, and he’d sometimes mix in some light profanity. Those were all things he absolutely never did to Gawon.

Above all else.

When he was alone with Gijun, there were times when they would both stare intently at each other before shyly looking away. Not just once in a while, but quite often. At those times, the rims of Gijun’s ears would invariably turn bright red. His own earlobes, which he had secretly touched, were just as hot.

Whenever their bodies happened to get close, he would startle and step back, afraid that the thump-thump sound of his racing heart would be discovered. When he heard Gijun’s voice calling, “Gawon-ah,” a ticklish feeling would spread from his ears down to his neck and chest. The scent of fabric softener, which he had now grown used to, would pop into his mind even when the boy wasn’t around. Several times, Gawon had to stop himself from asking Gijun what product he used.

To say all of this was simply the kind of feeling one would share with a classmate in the same homeroom was, a little…

‘It’s a little… strange, isn’t it?’

Gijun, you and I… what on earth is going on with us?

He didn’t know the answer. But he didn’t want to rashly investigate and dig into it either. He was afraid that this peace might be shattered. He wanted to enjoy this gift-like time for just a little, just a little bit longer. Because he liked it. He just… liked it.

But every time, a question invariably followed.

Is this okay?

Is it okay for me to come to like this boy so much?

There was a fact that kept fading whenever they faced each other, talking, eating, and walking side by side. Perhaps he himself was intentionally blurring it because he was so desperate to look away from that fact. But even if it became blurry, the essence of it was still there.

The fact that Gijun was born and raised in the hellish world that Gawon had experienced his entire life. The distinct and sorrowful premonition that even if he pretended not to know now, he would one day be deeply hurt by that fact.

“We’re already here.”

He heard Gijun’s disappointed voice. Gawon snapped his head up and stopped walking. He was already in front of his house.

“Hurry and go inside. It’s late.”

“Okay. …Thanks for… walking me home. Tomorrow.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Gawon’s lips parted. He was about to swallow his words, but decided to say it after all. No matter how much he tried to remind himself of the truth… whenever he was with Gijun, he always ended up like this.

“…I’ll walk you to your house.”

“No way, my house is really far.”

“But you’re the only one who walks me home every day.”

“I told you. I have to control my weight, remember? It’s good for me to get more cardio in.”

Looking up at the fresh, smiling face under the streetlight, Gawon felt a little sad. He was home, so it was right for him to go inside, but why did he feel so reluctant?

“Go on in.”

“Okay. You get home safe, too.”

They waved to each other from a reasonable distance. He was afraid that Gijun might see the shabby interior of his home. He had already been caught living in an alley like this, so there was nothing more to be embarrassed about, but still.

Gawon closed the door and let out a small sigh. Right, this much should be okay. Spending time together at school, going about their own schedules, and then meeting at night for a late-night snack. Just up to this point…

But then, the issue of money came up again. He couldn’t just keep getting treated like this every day. Gijun had subtly told him not to feel burdened, that he was just grateful to have someone to eat with because he hated eating late-night snacks alone, but that was surely just something he said to be considerate of him.

He should contact his uncle and ask if there was any more work. Letting out a small sigh, Gawon took out his phone. He found ‘Uncle Kim Hyung-joo’ in his contacts and sent a text.

[Uncle, hello. This is Gawon.]

[I’m just writing to see if you have any more work available. It doesn’t matter if it’s washing dishes or serving, not just peeling onions.]

Uncle Hyung-joo’s family were pretty much the only acquaintances his mother had kept in touch with since Gawon was young. Uncle Hyung-joo and his wife, who ran a restaurant near the establishment where his mother worked, had pitied his mother for frequenting the place while pregnant, and offered a helping hand to his mother who would occasionally come to their restaurant to eat.

That led to Uncle Hyung-joo’s family taking care of Gawon for a few months when he was very young. He heard that they had taken in the newborn who had been left carelessly in the corner of a room, given him a name, and raised him on formula. If Uncle Hyung-joo’s wife hadn’t done that for him, he probably would have died on the cold floor without getting a single sip of milk.

Currently, his mother no longer kept in touch with Uncle Hyung-joo’s family. But Gawon made sure to contact them during holidays and at the end of the year. No matter what anyone said, they were the people Gawon was most grateful to.

Whenever he was short on money, he would contact them and help out at the restaurant. The restaurant was consistently doing well, so they always said they were short on hands. For Gawon, too, it was more convenient to work for 4 or 5 hours at a time and get paid for the day, rather than having a regular part-time job. That way, he could focus more on his studies.

Just then, the door opened. At the loud creaking sound, Gawon turned around with wide eyes.

“…Mom?”

His mother, a plastic bag with bottles of alcohol hanging from her hand, staggered into the house. It seemed to be her day off. The moment he was about to ask if she had eaten dinner, Gawon’s eyes widened. His mother’s eyes, which held a terrifying glint, had a dark bruise on them.

“Mom, are you o…!”

“You, how long are you going to keep going to that damn school? Tell me.”

His question of whether she was okay was brutally cut off by her sharp voice. Her sharp gaze was fixed on the backpack Gawon was wearing.

“I can’t even afford to feed myself, so how am I supposed to feed two people? Huh? Those bastards take everything I earn. Shit, they even fucked up my face, so I can’t even go to work today!”

“…Let’s put some medicine on it first. I’ll go buy some now…”

“Medicine?”

His mother’s enraged face turned toward Gawon. Her severely bloodshot eyes flashed menacingly.

“Don’t give me that crap about medicine. Don’t pretend to be worried, it’s annoying. What the hell have you been doing while I was out earning money? Are you telling me to earn money and do the housework too, right now?”

“……”

“Am I asking you to do something difficult? Just come to the store and carry fruit! I told you, you get good tips!”

“……”

“You can’t do it? You hate working that much? You little shit, what makes you so high and mighty that you can’t do it? While your bitch of a mother is selling her body, getting beaten up by gangsters!”

Gangsters… Today, that word lodged in his chest like a sharp shard of glass. Biting his lip gently, Gawon lowered his head.

“If you can’t do it, then crawl out and get a part-time job. Stop being a freeloader! Who the hell does he think he is, studying. Does he think just anyone can study?! That’s something kids from well-off families do! You need to know your place!”

If he listened any longer, he felt like his chest, filled with resentment, would explode. Leaving his screaming mother behind, he ran into his room and closed the door. At times like these, it was a relief that there were two rooms, even if they were suffocatingly small.

He took out the wired earphones from his pocket. The moment he played an English listening file he had downloaded from an education site and turned the volume to the maximum, the door was flung open again. His mother, who had thrown the door open as if to break it, entered the room and shrieked.

“Hey, you bastard. Do you think I’m a joke? Do the words of a whore sound like bullshit to you! How dare you crawl into your room while your mother is talking, how dare you!”

“Just stop, please.”

Please, just stop. A trembling voice burst out in a sob. His old anger and resentment had been buried at the bottom for so long that they rarely ever exploded.

But listening to his mother drive him into a corner as if to kill him for no reason at all, he would suddenly become curious. He wondered if he was born just to receive his mother’s anger. He wondered if she gave birth to him just to silently wipe up and endure all the filthy words she spewed, like a worn-out rag.

“You son of a bitch, are you glaring at me now that you’re all grown up? You’re going to hit your own mother? Hit me! Go on and hit me, you bastard!”

“I said stop, please! The bottles will break!”

His mother charged at him, her eyes blazing. The strong smell of alcohol wafted from her. The two liquor bottles hanging from her wrist clinked loudly against each other, making a clanging sound.

Gawon firmly grabbed and held both of his mother’s wrists as she screamed and threw a fit. Her wrists, which were scratching and pinching him wildly, were so painfully thin that Gawon’s heart sank once more at the sight. Where on earth did she get such strength from these slender arms?

His mother screamed for a long time before she grew exhausted and fell asleep as if she had fainted. She was already thoroughly intoxicated. Gawon silently took the plastic bag hanging from his mother’s wrist and put it in the refrigerator. It was a relief that at least the bottles hadn’t broken in all this chaos.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

Why did Uncle Hyung-joo’s wife show such mercy to a complete stranger like his mother, and save him? Now that he had survived… he was such a troublesome existence to his mother.

A birth that no one welcomed. A name given out of pity by a complete stranger, not a parent or grandparent. A humble and shabby life where he had to be told to know his place just for attending a school that everyone else went to.

Is there really any meaning in continuing to trudge through a life like this?

Gawon slumped against the wall as if collapsing and closed his eyes. The resentful, despair-filled sigh he had been swallowing throughout the commotion finally, finally escaped.