ASD 6

Gawon put on a padded jacket with all its stuffing gone flat and slung on a bag he had neatly packed with this and that. Then he turned the key to lock the old door and left the house. He had confirmed that his mother had returned home safely, so his walk to school felt a little more reassuring.

However, he had been delayed a little because his mother threw a fit, as if having a seizure, when he tried to change her clothes. The bloodshot whites of her eyes, the sniffing, the unfocused gaze that stared blankly at Gawon.

Gawon now knew what his mother’s state signified. The world his mother was a part of was a place that left one so defenselessly exposed to such things.

He had recommended a d**g rehabilitation center to his mother several times, but was refused every single time. Despair pooled in his chest as he looked at his mother, who would curtly say she was too busy trying to make a living to have time for a place like that.

From time to time, Gawon would feel that there was a bottom even lower than this. That chilling, goosebump-inducing premonition, one that was close to self-mockery, would one day become reality and choke him, cold and damp. The two of them, mother and son, were already living in the worst possible situation, and there was not a glimmer of a chance for things to get better.

His biological father, whose life, face, and name he had not known since he was a child. His mother, tied down by a huge debt to the establishment where she worked, and the detestable thugs who monitored her like hawks. And a single, tiny room on the verge of collapse.

There was only one thing he could believe in. His grades, which, while not outstanding, were at least not embarrassing enough to show anywhere. That was the only means he had to avoid being s**ked into his mother’s dark, damp world.

His mother often—no, quite frequently—said so. That he should quit the troublesome business of studying and do something, anything, to help with the family finances. That he should at least help out in the kitchen of the establishment where she worked. She would even say, without hesitation, terrible things like, with a face like his, he could make a decent amount in tips just by serving fruit. Having been exposed to humiliation for so long to the point of being consumed by it, his mother had now been stripped of her last vestiges of morality and shame.

Naturally, Gawon held out, stubbornly refusing. The day he had to see his mother working there, serving drinks, he would bite his tongue and die. Doing such a thing, seeing his mother scantily clad and dealing with men—it was enough to see that at home.

His mother often brought men home, and whenever she did, Gawon did not go inside. He was sick and tired of the countless nights he had spent sleeping at the playground.

Perhaps because he had used up an unusual amount of energy trying to calm his mother’s struggling, he felt exceptionally hungry today, even though he usually skipped breakfast. It might have been because his dinner last night had been too meager. He had used up all the money on his welfare card, so yesterday he had made do with one large-sized triangular kimbap for a meal.

Rubbing his rumbling stomach, he trudged along. Once he left the shantytown, where old doors were clustered together like crab shells and demolition notice banners were posted here and there, a large road appeared as if by magic. Gawon quickened his pace, his eyes taking in the neat, respectable buildings and cozy-looking apartment complexes with indifference.

As the school came into view, the number of kids in the same uniform increased. Today, he had come out wearing his full uniform, top and bottom. The presence of the gym clothes in his bag that were not his was brought to his mind anew. And, the owner of these gym clothes as well.

‘Just, so you don’t get chewed out by the student discipline teacher.’

The refreshing smile. The deeply dimpling cheeks. Along with his friendly features, a low, comfortable voice.

He was a strange kid. That kid, who anyone would find likable, was a guy who would undoubtedly be in the highest tier if you were to rank the males in the classroom. As proof, even though it hadn’t been long since he transferred, the area around him was overflowing with kids loitering about, trying to get close to him.

Why on earth would a guy like that, who was popular just for breathing, lend his clothes to someone like him? Even while getting an earful from the student discipline teacher himself.

He had wondered what kind of scheme it was. Gawon had kept his senses on high alert, anticipating and imagining that kid stabbing him in the back.

But from yesterday, when that happened, until today, the kid hadn’t done anything in particular. He didn’t stick to Heo Yeonggyu’s side and send scornful looks, as if asking when he had ever helped Gawon, nor did he hit, insult, or damage his belongings.

What on earth was that kid…? Gawon was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear the voice calling him from behind.

“Hey.”

“…”

Someone placed a hand on the shoulder of Gawon, who was walking silently without answering. Startled, Gawon whipped his head around.

Behind him, surprisingly, stood the very person he had been thinking about. Today, this kid was also properly dressed in his uniform. He was wearing a black t-shirt underneath, with his white uniform shirt unbuttoned and open in a cool fashion. Every time the kid moved lightly, that same pleasant scent wafted over.

“I don’t know your name. Yoon… Gawon?”

Gijun, tilting his head, read the name written on the name tag on Gawon’s jacket. After muttering it a couple of times as if committing it to memory, the kid grinned and gestured toward the school gate with his chin.

“Let’s go.”

“…”

Is he asking me to go to school with him right now? Surprised, Gawon couldn’t easily take a step. Gijun, who had unthinkingly started walking ahead, made a puzzled expression, asking, “What’s wrong?” Gawon’s lips sealed shut completely as he watched the dark, thick eyebrows arch handsomely.

Things like, “Hey,” or, “Thanks for lending me your clothes the other day.” You can at least say a greeting like that…

Even as he urged himself on inwardly, Gawon couldn’t say a word. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had engaged in such a trivial, everyday conversation with someone.

Should I say hello now, even though it’s late? Just as he was mulling over the thought that was becoming more awkward and pointless with every passing second, a loud rumbling sound echoed from Gawon’s stomach.

“…Ah.”

Gawon hurriedly placed a hand on his stomach. He was so embarrassed that a single cry escaped him. Looking down at Gawon, whose ears had turned red, Gijun chuckled.

“Didn’t you have breakfast?”

“…I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

At his first words at last, Gijun’s eyes widened slightly. But that was only for a moment, and soon his lips curved into a refreshing smile.

“Then does it always rumble like this?”

“…”

His voice was full of mischief. Now his face was burning up as well, but Gawon didn’t offer any particular reply. Just then, Gijun took something out of his bag and held it out.

“Here. Eat this.”

Held in the large hand was an energy bar. Gawon blinked for a moment, then shook his head.

“No, thanks.”

“Why? It’s good.”

“…You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

“Huh? This is the only thing I’ve given you. The gym clothes were a loan. Not a gift.”

Gijun used a peculiar way of speaking. He had tried to push him away because he didn’t want to receive any more help, but the kid deflected it lightly. As if this kind of thing was no big deal at all.

“Eat it. It’s good.”

On top of that, he was persistent. Thinking that he would be the only one to look strange if he refused any further, Gawon accepted the energy bar in a daze. It was awkward to eat something alone in this situation, but… still, considering the sincerity of the person who gave it to him, he rustled open the wrapper.

Gawon took a bite of the sticky, dense, chocolate-covered energy bar. He felt the intense hunger he had been feeling already subsiding a little.

“It’s good, right?”

“…Yeah.”

For a short while, they walked without a word as he ate the energy bar. Gijun didn’t walk ahead, but slowly matched his pace.

“You’re taking a really long time to eat this tiny thing. It’s strange.”

The kid muttered under his breath. It didn’t seem like a remark that expected a reply, nor was it intended as a reprimand for his eating speed, so Gawon remained silent. When he was about halfway through the energy bar, Gijun suddenly struck up a conversation.

“Hey, can I ask you something? Heo… what was it? Heo Jaegu? Do you know him from before?”

At the sudden question, Gawon’s brow furrowed. Heo Jaegu… he was probably talking about Heo Yeonggyu. He wasn’t sure if you could call it “knowing” him, but… Gawon replied in a calm voice.

“We were in the same class last year.”

“Ah.”

For someone who had asked after getting the name wrong, it was a short reply. The incident a few days ago, when he got beaten up at the back of the classroom, must have been quite memorable. He felt bitter for no reason, and embarrassed. It had been a while since he had felt these emotions toward other kids, so he had no idea why he was being like this all of a sudden.

“Oh, and… I’ll give you back your clothes before I forget.”

Stopping, Gawon opened the bag he was wearing and took out the gym clothes. He didn’t want to give them back in the classroom, in front of the other kids.

Gijun took the clothes without a word. Then, as if he was staring down at the gym shirt, he suddenly buried his nose in it. Gawon’s eyes grew wide.

Hwoop— Gijun took a deep breath with a sound and grinned.

“Oh, smells nice.”

Why on earth would he smell someone else’s laundry detergent…? It was absurd. But in that moment, he realized that when you’re overly flustered, you end up laughing.

Without realizing it, Gawon let out a chuckle. At that, Gijun tilted his head and looked into Gawon’s face, just as he had when he was checking the name tag a moment ago. His iridescent eyes, shining brilliantly in the sunlight, met Gawon’s gaze perfectly.

“Oh? You laughed. It’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh.”

The kid grinned back in response.

Gijun’s eyes, bathed in the bright morning sunlight, looked almost gray at a glance. For a moment, Gawon thought they resembled the eyes of a wolf he had once seen in a documentary.

Still, this kid’s smile, unlike other people’s, wasn’t unpleasant. It felt so distant that it was hard to guess when the last time had been. The last time a pure smile, containing no ridicule or contempt, had been directed at him.