By Zephyria 
Yeon-jun’s reaction was far from what Eun-ha had expected.
“You two seem really close.”
It was late at night. In the bedroom, where only a single indirect light cast a low glow. Eun-ha, lying with his head on the bed, glanced sideways. He quietly observed Yeon-jun, who was sitting leaned against the headboard, fiddling with his phone. Seeing how much he detested it, Eun-ha had thought he might secretly be pleased or relieved, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“More importantly, Hyung, your trip is coming up soon.”
Yeon-jun, displaying an attitude that was more lukewarm and vacant than expected, turned his phone around. Eun-ha nodded, concluding that perhaps Yeon-jun didn’t find it as awkward as he had feared. He had previously mentioned in passing that he planned to be away from home for a few days for a trip with friends.
“Where are you going?”
“Gapyeong.”
The destination was a villa owned by Park Hyeon-ji’s family. Since they wouldn’t be leaving that general area, it was more of a retreat than a trip. They would pick a day or two to get some deep rest, play in the water, and eat delicious food.
On the day Gu Hae-bin had burst into the house and then left after conveying Eun-ha’s intentions to the friends, a swift meeting had taken place in the group chat, and specific dates were set. Leaving him no room to back out. There was only about a week left now.
He checked his calendar. Upon seeing the approaching date, Eun-ha’s face unconsciously clouded over with gloom. Reading this with ease, Yeon-jun leaned slightly toward Eun-ha. Resting his elbow on the sheet, he propped up the side of his face with his hand and asked.
“Are you not looking forward to it? The trip.”
Eun-ha remained silent. After a brief moment of contemplation, a small groan escaped his throat.
“It’s not that I’m not looking forward to it, but…”
“….”
“No, fine. If you want to be technical, I guess I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Why? I thought you got along really well with your friends.”
“I do get along with them, but…”
They had become friends because they were compatible in many ways, and over time, they had gradually gotten to know each other and formed a friend group. During the years—some spanning over a decade—there were times they grew distant depending on their individual circumstances, or times they barely saw each other once a year, but the group chat had never gone dark, no matter how busy they were. As if suggesting that their relationship would remain steadfast forever.
Eun-ha looked at Yeon-jun, who was asking if there was some kind of problem, and gave a slight nod of admission.
“There is… a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
How should he explain it? It was complicated to put into words. His mind quickly became tangled with old, lingering worries. The silence stretched as he tried to organize his thoughts. It was around the time Yeon-jun began fiddling with the ends of Eun-ha’s hair, without particularly rushing him.
“I think the problem is that we always get along too well.”
Yeon-jun’s gaze met his, as if that alone was difficult to understand. Feeling the touch grooming his hair, Eun-ha continued.
“Everyone’s timing is different, but… they’re all friends I’ve known since we were young. Some for at least seven years, others for over ten.”
“Yes.”
“So, they’re people who met me when I was… normal.”
“When you were normal…?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you not normal now?”
“Do I look that way to you?”
Eun-ha tended not to neglect self-objectification. After all, there was nothing more unsightly than someone who acted without knowing their place.
With a tone of conviction that it couldn’t possibly be so, Yeon-jun answered immediately without even blinking.
“Yes. You do look that way.”
Eun-ha let out a scoff as if it were absurd.
“Then that’s because you don’t know me…”
“Why? You’ve been sleeping very well lately.”
“….”
“You’re eating well without skipping meals, too.”
“….”
“Is that why? I think you’ve put on a bit of weight, Hyung.”
Yeon-jun looked at him seriously and squeezed the forearm revealed beneath the short-sleeved top. Eun-ha, who had been about to sink into a rather gloomy topic, gasped and asked back in disbelief.
“…I put on weight?”
He had never paid much attention to gaining or losing weight, but even so, he was instantly flustered. For one, it was nearly the first time in his life he’d been told he gained weight… and the nuance didn’t sound positive at all when he first heard it.
“Something like that.”
“…I really didn’t know…”
Since when? How much?
Before he knew it, they were in a position that was halfway between a hug and being held. The moment he became suddenly conscious of it and tried to pull back, Yeon-jun, sensing the movement, met his eyes with a questioning ‘Hm?’ and gave a slight, amused smile. Then, he grabbed Eun-ha’s waist as he tried to retreat and pulled him deeper into his embrace.
“Why? I like it because you’ve become soft.”
“….”
Before he could even struggle, he froze stiff at the bizarre choice of words he had never heard in his life. Soft… what…
How could he use such an indecent expression… Eun-ha could only gape, having lost all his words. While he was chewing over the shock alone, the sound of laughter reached his ears.
“I didn’t say it in a bad way. Quite the opposite, actually…”
“….”
“When we were like this before, there were times it would actually hurt. Because of the bones.”
“…You’re saying that to make me laugh, right?”
“It would be nice if you did.”
He widened the gap slightly. He began to peer into Eun-ha’s face as if he wanted to take it all in. Consequently, Eun-ha did not put any effort into smiling. When he remained stiff and showed only a blank expression, the smile on the other’s face deepened.
In the end, Eun-ha let out a hollow sigh as if giving up and slumped his body. Leaning comfortably in the embrace, he pressed his forehead against the chest and murmured softly.
“Anyway…”
“Yeah.”
“…Since I’m still superficially getting along so well with people I’ve known for that long, our relationship is no different from the days when we hung out and played together to the point of boredom—.”
“….”
“Even saying a single word feels vaguely terrifying. What if I show a side of myself I shouldn’t? What if I do something strange in their eyes without thinking… What if I look that strange?”
“….”
“Because the ‘me’ in their memories and the ‘me’ now are too different. The version of me they’re familiar with and the version of me I perceive don’t align at all… so I keep becoming conscious of it, it’s uncomfortable, and then I feel like I’m unintentionally lying, which makes it even more uncomfortable. That’s why. I want to stay as far away as possible.”
“….”
“There are things that, if you’re too close, you can’t hide even if you want to.”
He wanted to show only the best versions of himself to the people he cherished. He didn’t want to disappoint them. He didn’t want to deviate from the ‘Lee Eun-ha’ they remembered. He didn’t want to fall short of the expectations they naturally held for him…
The result of that fear—the act of running away and scrambling to hide without rhyme or reason—was, even to him, a ridiculously pathetic way of handling things. A weary sigh escaped him naturally.
“I know I’m being cowardly and pathetic. I can’t keep living like this forever. Unless I never see them again for the rest of my life, it’s a problem I’ll eventually have to solve…”
“….”
“I know. I know that this is just creating problems in its own way, but…”
A large hand gently brushed aside the hair scattered across his forehead. It was around the time an inexplicable sense of relief settled in from that cool touch.