DEARG Ch 21

“She’s a d**n liar.”

“…….”

“She’s always been like that. Even in high school, she’d say she was jealous of me, acting like she liked me, but behind my back, she was always scheming something. Wanting to outdo me, trying to snag a better guy than me.”

Isn’t it ridiculous? The woman continues speaking with exaggerated bravado.

“Even after all this time, she’s still jealous of me. She can’t stand that I have something better than her.”

The slender hand holding the coffee cup trembles faintly. Jo Jihyun, head bowed, says nothing.

“My son, my brilliant son, could never be one of those filthy people who like men.”

She gazes intently at Jo Jihyun, as if trying to extract an answer.

“Right?”

Jo Jihyun remains motionless, lips sealed.

If he were to say no, that her son doesn’t like men, and spin a convenient lie, the woman would probably pretend to believe it. That’s the kind of person she is—living in the reality she wants to believe. Despite being sharp and sensitive enough to already know the truth, she might just let it slide.

“Answer me.”

The mother presses for a response.

“What answer?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“…….”

“Why do you like men? What’s lacking in you that you’d do something so horrific?”

Her face is the picture of innocence. The woman is oblivious to the countless horrific things she herself has done. Strangling her sleeping young son, stabbing the back of his hand with a fork for not eating properly, whipping his calves until the flesh tore off for dropping grades, slicing his hand with a blade for irritating her—Jo Jihyun doesn’t want to acknowledge that the things Kang Seokwon has done for him are horrific.

“Answer me.”

Before the words are even finished, the woman slaps him across the face. The blow is so hard his body sways. When her son doesn’t respond, she slaps him several more times. Blood streams from his nose, and his lips split, bleeding.

“You’re not going to answer?!”

The woman raises her voice in a shrill cry.

Jo Jihyun remains silent to the end. Today, Kang Seokwon has a match. He could escape outside, but he doesn’t want to distract him. The talent he’s seen with his own eyes is so dazzlingly beautiful that he could never bear to ruin it.

“Answer me, you filthy dog in heat!”

The woman hurls insults as she strikes her son’s cheek again. At that moment, the front door opens, and the father steps inside.

“What’s going on? What are you doing, honey?”

The woman bursts into tears the moment she sees the man. She cunningly manipulates the fact that he’ll ultimately take her side.

“Honey, do you know what I just heard?”

“What are you talking about? Tell me.”

“Sukhyun, she came and said… your son…”

The woman covers her face with both hands and sobs. Her delicate shoulders shake with her cries. She should’ve been an actress—with that face and talent.

“What’s going on? Jihyun, you tell me.”

In the end, the father shifts the responsibility to his son.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?! They’re saying you’re a filthy h**o! She, that woman, said my son is a h**o! Pretending to be concerned, but laughing behind my back—I’m so furious I could die!”

She pours out her grief, clinging to the man and crying. The man, flustered, casts a glance at his son. Jo Jihyun stares silently at the floor, his expression unchanging. One side of his face is swollen, distorting his sense of distance.

“Jihyun. Is what your mother’s saying true? You need to answer when she asks you something.”

The father scolds him sternly. Jo Jihyun still doesn’t move an inch. The father sighs and tells him to go to his room.

“Go where?! Why are you like that? If he ruins his life because of this, are you going to take responsibility?!”

“I’ll talk to him. Okay? Don’t faint again.”

The man soothes his wife. While Jo Jihyun was hospitalized after a car accident, she reportedly fainted three times. Her son missing the top spot in school was, to her, an unthinkable horror.

Jo Jihyun retreats to his room. He closes the door. He’s exhausted. His mother will eventually find out the truth. Her reaction after that is all too predictable. The image of Kang Seokwon’s blood pooling on the road flashes in his mind. The happy, sparkling moments from just before crumble beneath his feet. He tried to ignore it, even though he knew how it would end.

Outside the room, the woman’s tearful voice intertwines with the father’s attempts to persuade her. Soon, there’s a knock at the door.

“Jihyun. Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The father enters the room.

“Studying’s been tough lately, huh?”

“No.”

Jo Jihyun wipes the blood from the back of his hand.

“Try to understand your mother. She’s already sensitive because Sukhyun is her old classmate, so she’s probably extra on edge.”

“Yes. I understand.”

The father’s face brightens.

“Good. Then Dad trusts you.”

Unlike his mother, he doesn’t pry persistently or scold him. Jo Jihyun used to think that was kindness.

“You must be tired. Get some rest.”

But now he knows it’s care born of indifference. His affection is entirely directed at the woman. After his father leaves, Jo Jihyun pulls out a tissue to wipe the blood. His eyes are swollen, his face a mess. Lying on the bed, he rubs the swollen area as if applying a cold compress.

How did the match go?

Closing his eyes, he pictures Kang Seokwon standing in the ring. As always, he must have claimed victory with quiet confidence. Step by step, through the time he’s steadily walked, he’ll stand tall at the top.

I miss him.

Jo Jihyun covers his face with both hands.

He wants to see him rise to the top. To witness him standing at the pinnacle of the world, to be there for those moments.

How can he see it? How can he ensure Kang Seokwon can live his life? …How can he love him forever?

Unanswered questions tangle and sink heavily.

If this continues, Kang Seokwon will get hurt. He’s preparing for the world championships. These are things Jo Jihyun didn’t fully understand before. It’s a situation bad enough for the coach to spit curses, telling him to get lost.

Don’t let me go, Jihyun.

The man’s voice echoes in his mind. Fearing that a lunatic who could ruin his life would abandon him, the towering beast was trembling.

What’s the big deal? What’s the big deal that it hurts so much he can’t even breathe?

His throat burns black. Jo Jihyun swallows the rising sobs to keep any sound from escaping.

“Jo Jihyun, what’s wrong with your face?”

The math teacher, startled, asks during class.

“I tripped on the stairs and fell.”

Snickers ripple through the room. It’s the fourth time he’s given the same answer. Every teacher who enters the classroom is shocked by Jo Jihyun’s appearance and asks the same question.

“Why weren’t you more careful? What’s that on your pretty face?”

It’s the fourth time he’s heard that too. Jo Jihyun gives an ambiguous smile and lowers his head. Thankfully, the swelling around his eyes has gone down enough that it doesn’t interfere with taking notes. While diligently copying the board, he feels a gaze. Choi Kiyeol, who was looking his way, quickly turns his head. Whether it’s guilt or amusement, Jo Jihyun doesn’t know. He doesn’t even care. He just hopes they won’t get entangled anymore.

The bell signaling the end of class rings.

“Attention, bow.”

The class president stands and gives the command, and the students shout “Thank you!” as they rise. They scramble to claim spots in the cafeteria. Jo Jihyun opens his book. After reading for about thirty minutes, he stands up. It’s less crowded to go to the cafeteria now. Even if he’s hungry, it’s better when it’s quieter. Unlike before, no one talks to him or picks a fight. It was the same at school in the U.S.—living like a ghost, barely there. This is more comfortable, better. He doesn’t place much value on relationships anyway.

Jo Jihyun heads to the cafeteria, takes a tray of food, and sits in a corner. His swollen cheek makes chewing difficult. The inside of his mouth gets bitten several times. He puts down his spoon and lets out a small sigh. He’s only managed three spoonfuls in ten minutes.

Should he just leave? As he ponders, someone sets a tray down across from him. Startled by the slightly rough movement, Jo Jihyun looks up. It’s Kang Seokwon. He pulls out a chair and sits. His match ended yesterday. Jo Jihyun called him this morning to check the results. Kang Seokwon won. It’s probably his first proper lunch in days, but he doesn’t even pick up his spoon. His sharp gaze lands on Jo Jihyun’s swollen face.

Jo Jihyun, unable to meet his eyes, silently resumes eating. Even chewing slowly, he bites the inside of his mouth again. Kang Seokwon watches every flinch and grimace without missing a thing.

Kang Seokwon stands, picking up his tray. Their eyes meet. Jo Jihyun instantly understands what he wants. He stands, clears his tray, and follows Kang Seokwon out to the hallway. Keeping a suitable distance, he trails behind. They enter a classroom on the fifth floor of the old building, under construction due to a leak. As Jo Jihyun steps inside, Kang Seokwon closes the door.

“Who did this?”

His voice is laced with cold fury. He already knows it’s not from a fall or a bump.

“It didn’t happen at school.”

Jo Jihyun mumbles an excuse. Kang Seokwon slowly closes and opens his eyes. The moment he says, “Jihyun,”

“Sunbae. Congratulations on your win.”

“……, Jo Jihyun.”

“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I couldn’t go out to call.”

They spoke on the phone this morning, but he wanted to congratulate him in person.

“Come with me.”

Jo Jihyun knows what his short command means. He responds calmly.

“Our country is lenient about domestic violence. Parents hitting their kids is often seen as discipline. Especially for boys my age, even if they report it, the police usually don’t take action.”

When his mother, with sad eyes, says it’s just puberty, most cops click their tongues and say, “Listen to your mom.” After they leave, she turns on him and slaps him as if nothing happened. After a few times, Jo Jihyun stopped reporting. Running away doesn’t help. Child protection agencies are the same—their priority is parents, the worst option for someone like him.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I’m saying it’s not the right time.”

Kang Seokwon’s fist clenches tighter. Jo Jihyun had dreamed of living with him. But those are days he can’t have this time either.

“Then.mbsp;

“Then when?”

“After I graduate.”

“…….”

Kang Seokwon’s expression hardens. There’s nearly a year left until Jo Jihyun’s graduation. That time feels endless with the battered boy standing before him.

“After graduation,”

As Kang Seokwon brushes back Jo Jihyun’s disheveled hair, the lunch bell rings.

“Let’s talk later.”

“Okay.”

Kang Seokwon pauses before leaving the classroom and looks back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just.”

I missed you.

The man’s calm confession makes Jo Jihyun’s ears ring. He lowers his eyes slightly and smiles faintly.

“See you later.”

Jo Jihyun nods. But it takes much longer than expected for those words to come true.

“What are you doing here?”

The sight of the woman at the school gate makes his hair stand on end.

“Waiting for my son.”

Her eyes dart around suspiciously, scanning for anyone dubious near Jo Jihyun.

“Let’s go.”

Jo Jihyun walks ahead. The woman hurries after him.

“How was school today? Did you listen to the teachers?”

She speaks as if addressing a young child.

“Same as usual.”

Jo Jihyun heads to the bus stop. Even while waiting, her watchful gaze doesn’t waver. Thankfully, Kang Seokwon left school early for an award ceremony. Jo Jihyun knows why he bothered coming to school for just a couple of hours without being asked.

The bus arrives. Jo Jihyun takes a single seat as they board.

“Why? Why not sit with me?”

“This is more comfortable.”

He doesn’t want to sit close, their bodies touching. The woman reluctantly sits in front of him.

“Are you going to the library with me?”

“No. Why the library?”

She asks as if it’s absurd.

“You’re going home, obviously.”

A slight relief. But her next words plunge Jo Jihyun into despair.

“Study at home from now on. Don’t waste time going to the library.”

“It’s only one bus stop.”

“Listen to me. It’s for your own good.”

Her eyes, like a snake’s tongue, flicker as she watches him.

“Have you ever seen a master calligrapher blame their brush? Smart kids excel anywhere.”

“The library helps me focus.”

“No.”

Her true colors show.

“Study at home. Always.”

“…….”

“And don’t go out on weekends. Stay home. Got it?”

“Should I stop going to school too?”

She raises her hand but, noticing eyes on them, quickly adjusts his clothes instead.

“When have I ever told you to do something bad? It’s all for your sake.”

“Mother.”

Jo Jihyun calls her.

“Yes? What?”

The woman, with a face so like his own, smiles. Her eyes, drawn as if with a single stroke, gleam with venom.

“Stop it.”

Kang Seokwon looks at his phone. No word from Jo Jihyun yesterday. Their schedules don’t align, making it hard to cross paths without effort.

If Jo Jihyun cuts contact like this,

“…….”

Kang Seokwon pockets his phone.

That morning, he waits for Jo Jihyun on a bench. There he is. His face is colder than the morning air, his guard up like he’ll let no one near. But Kang Seokwon knows it’s a shield for his vulnerabilities. The subtle elegance of his fragility seeps through with every blink of his impassive face. The urge to protect him is quickly followed by a cruel, primal desire to possess him. A few boys playing basketball on the field stare at Jo Jihyun, entranced. Kang Seokwon stands, blocking their view, and approaches from behind. Lost in thought, Jo Jihyun doesn’t notice him—an unusual lapse for someone so perceptive. Kang Seokwon steps beside him as he changes into indoor shoes and walks down the hall.

“Lunchtime, fifth-floor classroom.”

He whispers low.

Jo Jihyun looks up, startled, recognizing him. The lingering bruises on his cheek ignite anger in Kang Seokwon’s chest.

Kang Seokwon starts down the hall. Jo Jihyun tugs his sleeve, signaling with his eyes to follow. They descend the stairs to the basement cafeteria, still closed, the dark, quiet steps enveloping them.

“Say it again.”

Kang Seokwon’s eyes narrow, confused.

“Just one more time.”

Jo Jihyun leans slightly away. Kang Seokwon realizes what this means.

“Can’t hear me?”

“That’s not it.”

Not a complete denial. Kang Seokwon gently turns Jo Jihyun’s chin, revealing blood crusted inside his ear.

“Let’s go to the police.”

Kang Seokwon grabs his hand.

“It was an accident.”

“An accident that ruptures an eardrum?”

His eyes blaze in the darkness. There’s not a single part of this boy he doesn’t cherish. Yet, the one place he should be safe keeps adding to his wounds. It’s maddening.

“She was startled. I provoked her.”

Stop it.

His mother keenly sensed the sharp rejection in his quiet words.

What did you say?

You need to get treatment before it’s too late.

The smile fades from the woman’s face. You filthy dog. In a clear, soft voice, she hurls curses at her son. You’ll be dead when we get home. How dare a thing like you defy your mother. The gazes of the people on the bus turn toward them all at once. Normally, she wouldn’t reveal her true nature in front of others. It means she’s been pushed to her limit. The bus arrives at the stop in front of their house.

I’m going to the library.

Jo Jihyun says. His mother grabs his hand tightly. Get off. Jo Jihyun stays seated, unmoving. His mother roughly pulls at his hand. She drags him toward the back door, but Jo Jihyun grips the handrail, resisting. Get off or stay, make up your mind! The bus driver shouts in an irritated voice. I said get off! His mother yanks at Jo Jihyun. With all his strength, Jo Jihyun shakes off her hand. The force sends her stumbling, falling to the ground at the bus stop, bracing herself with both hands. She glares at her son with wide, furious eyes. The bus’s back door closes. After finishing his studies at the library that day, Jo Jihyun returns home to find his father waiting, seething with anger. He’s slapped across the face. He falls, hitting his head against the wall. The man’s strength is incomparable to the woman’s. How dare you hit your mother. The man’s voice is filled with rage. The same man who’s overlooked his mother hitting him countless times is now furiously angry. He can’t stand that someone has harmed the woman he loves. The woman cries and screams beside him. She says that when she’s old and sick, she’ll become a mother beaten by her own child. That it’s bad enough to grow old, but why must she live a life unloved by anyone. Her piercing voice seems to disintegrate, losing its form. Jo Jihyun clutches his ears at the sharp ringing. It’s not the usual panic attack. No dizziness or nausea. Just excruciating pain in his ears whenever he moves. His father, soothing the woman, scolds his son sternly. Don’t ever do that again. Got it? Say it one more time. His son, hands covering his ears, responds with a slight grimace. How dare you act so insolent, his father bellows. His ears ring with a buzzing sound. I couldn’t hear what you said clearly. ……. Blood seeps through Jo Jihyun’s fingers, still covering his ears. In the end, he goes to the emergency room for treatment. The doctor gives simple instructions.

“Don’t cough or anything like that, and avoid loud noises. Keep water out of your ears. It’s at a level that will heal naturally if you leave it alone.”

Kang Seokwon bites his lip.

“You came to school in this condition?”

“I can’t stay there.”

Jo Jihyun gives a bitter smile. Being at school feels more peaceful.

“Want to go home?”

The moment Jo Jihyun hears the word “home” from Kang Seokwon, he thinks of Kang Seokwon’s small apartment before the house he’s lived in for over a decade.

“I’m fine.”

Even as he speaks, he feels a throbbing pain. Seeing Jo Jihyun’s pale complexion, Kang Seokwon’s gaze darkens.

“Jo Jihyun. Let’s go to the police. I’ll go with you.”

Jo Jihyun shakes his head.

“Why are you being so stubborn? Not everyone who gives birth is a parent.”

“I know.”

The assumption that all parents love their children is, for some, a violent framework. Jo Jihyun accepted that fact long ago.

“It’s not my parents I’m worried about.”

Kang Seokwon’s accident happened in front of the police station. He was only trying to save Jo Jihyun from his mother, who was openly grabbing his hair and beating him. He pushed Jo Jihyun into an oncoming car. The sharp screech of brakes, the sound of something breaking, the solid body shielding him, the blood pooling on the road. These are things he must never forget. He wants to avoid a similar situation at all costs.

The bell signaling class rings.

“I’ll head in.”

“Jo Jihyun.”

Kang Seokwon grabs Jo Jihyun’s shoulder, careful not to squeeze too hard in case it hurts.

“You said you’d do what I asked.”

“…….”

The silence pains his heart. The man yields, almost pitifully obedient. Jo Jihyun tugs at Kang Seokwon’s clothes.

“Say it one more time.”

“Lunchtime, fifth floor, that classroom.”

Kang Seokwon leans down, speaking into Jo Jihyun’s uninjured left ear.

How can he see him, even just a little longer?

“Got it. Go to class.”

Kang Seokwon nods. As Jo Jihyun starts up the stairs, he turns back with an “Ah.” Standing three steps above, he’s just slightly taller. He reaches out, wrapping his arms around Kang Seokwon’s neck, and kisses his forehead. Given their height difference, it’s something he wouldn’t normally dare.

Kang Seokwon looks up at Jo Jihyun, his expression frozen.

“See you later.”

“Yeah.”

Vague words solidify into a concrete promise.

Jo Jihyun climbs the stairs without looking back.

“What’s all this?”

“Lunch.”

Kang Seokwon replies, laying out side dishes on the desk.

“It’s hard to see your face.”

He adds, almost as an excuse. Phone calls and weekends aren’t as free as they used to be. The solution is so very Kang Seokwon. Jo Jihyun stares blankly at the lunch spread out on the desk.

“What? No appetite?”

“No.”

Jo Jihyun quickly picks up a spoon. Kang Seokwon sits to his left.

“How’s your ear?”

“It’s fine.”

He doesn’t lie. Pretending to be okay is useless with Kang Seokwon. Even the class bell over the speaker makes his ear feel like it’s tearing.

“Loud noises are still a bit rough.”

A broadcast calls for the second-year grade leader. Jo Jihyun points at the speaker, laughing, saying that’s the kind. Kang Seokwon doesn’t laugh.

“Eat.”

Jo Jihyun nods and picks up his spoon. The porridge, made from finely ground rice, is thin enough to swallow without chewing. He never mentioned his swollen mouth makes chewing hard, but Kang Seokwon knows. His care is always quiet. Jo Jihyun scoops some porridge.

“It’s delicious.”

He smiles, but a sharp pain stabs his ear. Hearing and speaking are both difficult. Seeing Jo Jihyun flinch, Kang Seokwon tells him not to talk and picks up a side dish with chopsticks, placing it on his spoon. They’re all easy to digest, things Jo Jihyun likes.

They eat in silence. After finishing and cleaning up, Kang Seokwon takes Jo Jihyun’s hand, spreading it open.

—I’ll see you here tomorrow.

Carefully writing each letter, as if afraid Jo Jihyun might not understand, the large man makes Jo Jihyun swallow a smile.

“You can speak. Your voice is low, so it’s fine.”

—Until you’re better.

He writes again on Jo Jihyun’s palm. Jo Jihyun holds his hand.

—It’ll heal soon.

—Good.

Both are quiet by nature. A few short words suffice for conversation.

Kang Seokwon toys with Jo Jihyun’s hand, tracing his neat nails, knuckles, and soft palm. After a while, he writes again.

—If anything happens, call me.

Jo Jihyun nods. Kang Seokwon kisses his fingers.

The pre-class bell rings. Jo Jihyun takes Kang Seokwon’s hand. Kang Seokwon spreads it open, waiting, much like when he fed him and awaited his reaction. Jo Jihyun’s neck grows warm. A tingling sensation climbs from his fingertips. He has so much to say, but his mind blanks.

Thank you, sunbae. I’m sorry. Thank you for caring about someone like me. I like you so much. Don’t get hurt. I love you. I want to be by your side. I’m scared. Please don’t hate me.

Honest feelings tangle. His fingertips tremble. Kang Seokwon’s eyes narrow slightly. Jo Jihyun draws a small heart on his large palm. Kang Seokwon looks down impassively, then slowly closes and opens his hand, as if savoring the sensation.

Kang Seokwon takes Jo Jihyun’s palm and draws something. A smiley face. Jo Jihyun swallows a laugh. Kang Seokwon leans forward. Can I kiss you? he asks softly, lips nearly touching. Each syllable brushes their lips, sending a shiver up Jo Jihyun’s spine.

Jo Jihyun nods. Their lips meet. They’d checked the door multiple times. The classroom, at the end of the hall, has no windows to the corridor. It’s fervent, consuming. Even after the class bell, they can’t pull away.

Jo Jihyun misses class for the first time that day.

The lunch bell rings. Students rush out of the classroom. Jo Jihyun closes his book. It’s a first—looking forward to lunch like this. Since eating with Kang Seokwon, he catches himself watching the clock from the start of fourth period.

Before leaving, he adjusts his clothes, checking behind him. No one’s watching. His steps quicken, nearly running up the stairs. Opening the fifth-floor classroom door, he sees Kang Seokwon, already there, smiling with his eyes. He pulls out a chair. Jo Jihyun exhales softly and approaches. Kang Seokwon takes his palm.

—How’s your ear?

Jo Jihyun pulls out a notebook and pen. Kang Seokwon, who’d offered his palm, pauses.

“It might be easier this way…”

Writing on his palm takes focus. Jo Jihyun brought the notebook for Kang Seokwon’s sake, but his hesitation makes Jo Jihyun feel a bit guilty. As he moves to pocket it, Kang Seokwon hands him the pen and opens the notebook.

—Better than yesterday.

Kang Seokwon stares at Jo Jihyun’s writing for a long time. Jo Jihyun adds a question mark.

—Your writing looks like you.

Jo Jihyun’s face flushes. He’s heard praise for his handwriting often. It’s so neat some teachers have him write on the board. Some kids snicker behind him, saying even his handwriting is hot.

It’s the first time someone said it resembles him. His face heats up. Jo Jihyun picks up the pen to change the subject.

—You write well too, sunbae.

He’d seen Kang Seokwon’s writing before, on a white envelope: Dear. George. A moment Kang Seokwon doesn’t know.

—Write something else.

Kang Seokwon looks at the paper, intrigued.

—Let’s eat.

Kang Seokwon laughs and hands him a spoon. Eating lunch across the desk, Jo Jihyun swallows a smile at a sudden thought.

Kang Seokwon mouths, Why?

—I was thinking what it’d be like if we were in the same class.

—What do you think it’d be like?

—Hard to say.

He ponders the pointless hypothetical.

—I think it’d be nice.

Taking classes together, eating together.

Being in the same space without needing a special plan. A blessing.

—What would you call me then?

Jo Jihyun writes a question mark at Kang Seokwon’s question.

—Not sunbae, since we’d be in the same class.

Jo Jihyun, slightly flustered, lowers his head with an “Uh.” Heat rises to his face as he blinks. He’s never considered anything but “sunbae.”

—Even in the same class, you’re a year older.

Due to a late birth registration, Kang Seokwon is actually two years older.

—So you’d still call me sunbae?

Jo Jihyun hesitates, shaking his head. Kang Seokwon urges, Then? Though he feels a gaze, Jo Jihyun stays impassive and silent.

“Hyung.”

Jo Jihyun says aloud. Kang Seokwon’s expression freezes. Though predictable, it feels utterly unexpected. He breathes in and out, as if savoring the word.

—Feels weird.

Jo Jihyun scribbles, then eats again. The food, delicious moments ago, now tastes like nothing.

Kang Seokwon resumes eating too. They finish in silence. After cleaning up, Kang Seokwon picks up the pen.

—Any side dishes you want?

—I like them all.

—Still. Something you want.

Jo Jihyun thinks, then writes, Rolled omelet. Kang Seokwon nods, Okay. He nudges Jo Jihyun’s hand, urging him to write more.

—What?

—Anything.

Jo Jihyun thinks, then writes Kang Seokwon, adding sunbae for good measure. Kang Seokwon, chin on the desk, watches him write.

—When did you start training?

—Seriously, in high school.

—Not long then.

—Yeah.

He’d heard non-athletic high school athletes face bias in judging, making national team spots rare. Kang Seokwon, not from an athletic school and trained by an obscure coach, is a complete outsider. Yet, the stories about him always end the same.

A monstrous genius.

Jo Jihyun looks at him, moving the pen.

—I like watching you train, sunbae. I think it’s amazing.

—You’re good at studying.

—It’s all I know how to do.

—I could never be top of the school.

They’ve had similar talks before. Jo Jihyun gazes at him. The same person—same feelings, thoughts, words as the Kang Seokwon from before.

—Why?

Jo Jihyun writes.

—Because I like you.

Kang Seokwon smiles silently, then says, Jihyun, in a low voice. Jo Jihyun nods.

—I know it’s a lot to ask,

He hesitates, pen in hand.

—Say it. Anything’s fine.

—This Saturday, you free?

After the incident, Jo Jihyun’s mother escorts him to the bus stop in the morning and meets him at school in the afternoon. Banning weekend outings was expected. He could ignore her, but he fears it’d spark trouble for Kang Seokwon, so he follows her rules for now.

Kang Seokwon must know his situation.

—I know it’s a big ask. If it’s too much…

A sudden thought strikes, and Jo Jihyun quickly writes.

—I think it’ll be fine.

Counting the days in his head, he adds.

—This weekend, my parents will be out for my grandmother’s memorial. I can make time.

—You’re not going?

—No. I’m not.

Kang Seokwon nods, satisfied, Good.

—What’s the occasion?

He must have a reason for pushing despite calling it a big ask.

—Going to Gangwon-do. My grandma’s place. Some things to sort out, and while I’m there.

Jo Jihyun heard the competition Kang Seokwon won recently is significant for an athlete. He’d want to visit his late grandmother. Jo Jihyun nods.

—I want to introduce you too.

Jo Jihyun’s eyes widen.

—Why?

—Just… I don’t think she’d like me.

Even if she’s passed, imagining a grandmother meeting her grandson’s boyfriend darkens his mood.

—She’d definitely like you.

—……, …….

Jo Jihyun draws several ellipses. Kang Seokwon laughs. The lunch bell rings. Kang Seokwon quickly covers Jo Jihyun’s ears. Jo Jihyun gazes at him.

It doesn’t matter.

Whatever this man wants, he wants to give.

The sound fades.

“Why do you shower so long?”

The woman grumbles sharply. Jo Jihyun apologizes and goes to his room. Resisting the urge to crawl into bed, he opens the window. The cold breeze makes him shiver. He pulls a book from the shelf. His mother flings the door open without knocking.

“Why’s the window open? You’re wasting the heater.”

“I was sleepy.”

Jo Jihyun shows her the English book. A satisfied smile spreads across her face.

“Good. You can’t just sleep when you’re tired. You need that kind of willpower to study.”

“Got it.”

Jo Jihyun answers, eyes on the book.

“You know tomorrow’s your grandmother’s memorial, right?”