By Zephyria 
“Who is your homeroom teacher?”
“It’s Mr. Kim Seong-dae…”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. Since it’s a private school, the teachers probably haven’t changed much. When I was a student, the dean of students was a real piece of work. Let’s see, what was his name… Jo, Jo Gyeong… what was it…”
“….Mr. Jo Gyeong-sik?”
“Ah, right! Jo Mu-sik! His catchphrase was always ‘You ignorant brats, learn something. Learn!’ so his nickname was Jo Mu-sik. Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s the homeroom teacher for the class next to ours….He’s still like that.”
Seo Chi-young smiled faintly. It was somehow amusing to hear familiar stories coming from a stranger’s mouth. The man, who had been gazing intently at the quietly smiling Seo Chi-young, beamed a wide smile. Looking pleased, he murmured, “It’s nice to see a Hubae,” and struck up a conversation.
The man was a very interesting person. He had a wealth of topics and a knack for telling stories flavorfully, and as they encountered each other almost every night, Seo Chi-young became quite close with him. The wariness he had felt at first dissolved to the point where he wondered why he had felt it at all.
Then came a certain night. Usually, after finishing his workout, the man would head home, saying, “I live nearby,” but that day, he followed Seo Chi-young into the shower room, claiming his water heater had broken. Entering the empty shower room and turning on the water, Seo Chi-young felt a slight awkwardness facing someone he usually saw casually while completely naked; when their eyes met, he gave a bashful smile. The man smiled back.
“Chi-young, don’t you get told you’re cute often?”
“Huh? No, I don’t.”
Seo Chi-young laughed, wondering what kind of joke it was. He had heard that he looked calm and gentle, but he hadn’t been called cute since he was very young, so he shook his head with a slightly embarrassed smile. The man glanced over Seo Chi-young as if it weren’t a joke at all.
“Really? You look just like a child. An innocent child who knows nothing of the world. ….Even your junk is still a child’s.”
The man pointed meaningfully toward Seo Chi-young’s lower half with a tilt of his chin, his tone slightly playful. Seo Chi-young’s face turned red instantly. He hadn’t been circumcised because he was told there was no need and no abnormality, but having it pointed out so bluntly made his face flush as if a previously unknown complex had suddenly emerged.
“I was told I didn’t need the surgery…”
“I didn’t have the surgery either. I peeled mine back myself. Look.”
The man turned toward Seo Chi-young. Involuntarily, Seo Chi-young’s gaze dropped in the direction of the man’s hand. The man loosely gripped his own genitals and lifted them as if showing them to Seo Chi-young.
Seo Chi-young momentarily held his breath. He had caught glimpses of others in public baths or swimming pool locker rooms many times, but this was the first time he had seen another person’s genitals displayed so brazenly right before his eyes.
He tried to look away quickly, but what entered his vision were the small protrusions dotted along the dark shaft. He had heard stories about inserting bead-like foreign objects, but he had never seen it in reality, not even in a photo. He found himself captivated despite himself.
The man, watching Seo Chi-young frozen stiff without even blinking, took one step, then two, and stood directly in front of him.
“Is it fascinating? You’ve never touched something like this, have you? Here.”
The man grabbed Seo Chi-young’s hand and casually pulled it over to make him grip his genitals. The man’s distorted member felt thick in his hand. The man overlapped his own hand over Seo Chi-young’s, which was reflexively shrinking back.
“It might look hideous, but how does it feel now that you’re touching it? Doesn’t it look like it would taste good?”
The man’s voice became suggestive. Seo Chi-young, not knowing what to do, could only look down at his hand. The man’s hand, overlapping Seo Chi-young’s, began to move slowly up and down.
“I’m usually pretty accurate with my intuition on this… you like men, don’t you?”
Bending down, the man whispered into Seo Chi-young’s ear. Seo Chi-young flinched as if struck by lightning. Unable to even blink his wide eyes, he merely parted his lips and whispered, “Ah, no, I don’t,” in a voice that was barely audible. The man pressed his lips even closer to Seo Chi-young’s ear, as if surprised—or as if telling him not to lie.
“Really not…? Have you never thought about sleeping with a man? Not even once? No need to hide it. I’m the same. I felt it the moment I first saw you. …Right here.”
The man’s hand tightened slightly on Seo Chi-young’s. And Seo Chi-young felt the unfamiliar sensation of something twitching and pulsing directly against his palm. The hardened flesh shook within his hand.
Another’s desire. The fact that the desire he was fueling with his own hand belonged to the man pierced through his mind vividly.
In that moment, Seo Chi-young was overwhelmed by an unfathomable, distant terror and shock. His mind went blank, and his thoughts were paralyzed.
It felt as if his reason and logic had flown away somewhere.
He didn’t know at what point he had bolted from there. As if a piece of film had been cut and then spliced back together, there was a gap in his memory. He had a vague recollection of pushing the man away and fleeing frantically, but he couldn’t be sure. When he came to his senses, he was walking down an unfamiliar alley, his body curled tight.
The first things that came to mind were rational disgust and a strange sense of alienation.
Why. How. …Not me. I’m not like that.
His hand felt hot. As if burned, yet he was reluctant to even clench his fist, so he walked on, curling his body against the chilling sensation that continued to flow through him, his hand held in an awkward half-grip. It felt as if his thoughts had stopped for a while.
He didn’t know why it had to be at that moment. At a dreadfully terrible time, Seo Chi-young saw them. Two people were sitting by the window of a fast-food restaurant that stayed open late: Yoon Jun-young and Jang Ui-geon.
….No. I’ve never done that. I’ve never even imagined wanting to sleep with a man.
Seo Chi-young pushed open the door of the fast-food restaurant. Only after the clerk asked him several times was he able to order a cola, and after dropping a few coins with trembling hands, he sat in a seat close to the door. Since it was night and there weren’t many people, he could hear the conversation from the somewhat distant table.
“I’m dying of sleepiness, but why isn’t that guy Kang-hee here when he’s the one who called us to hang out?”
A familiar, languidly husky voice. The corners of Seo Chi-young’s mouth, which had been chewing on the straw without drinking the cola, twitched.
“You always stay up until dawn, so why are you sleepy when it’s not even midnight yet?”
“I stayed up all night yesterday. I happened to pick up a decent kid for the first time in a while. I barely got any sleep today because I was dragged around by my father.”
“Last night… that kid who was walking with you, all clumsy, when I ran into you this morning? I don’t really care, but don’t do anything that’ll get you sued later.”
“Sued for what? He was crying about how much he liked me until dawn, his voice went hoarse. He even begged me to make sure to contact him again.”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Hey, don’t be grumpy. You know Jun-young, you’re the only one for me.”
Behind the playfully circling voice, a cold voice sharpened, cutting him off bluntly, saying it was creepy.
The casual conversations of friends, the kind that could happen anywhere, continued. While not quite that explicit, he occasionally heard conversations of that nature at school. It was a conversation no different from any other, yet Seo Chi-young watched with a strange feeling as the hand gripping the cola cup trembled slightly.
He was confused. His mind was a jumbled mess; he couldn’t even pick out what he had been thinking just a moment ago. Amidst that chaos, the emotion that suddenly popped up like a weed was envy.
In that moment, Seo Chi-young felt an agonizing envy toward Yoon Jun-young. And toward that unknown person who had been with Jang Ui-geon last night. Whether it was the person who could casually chat with him at this moment, or the person who could see his unfiltered self in detail.
He was envious.
And Seo Chi-young thought consciously.
This isn’t admiration. It’s not simple liking. How could admiration or liking evoke such a deathly painful envy?
Seo Chi-young liked Jang Ui-geon—that man.
While Seo Chi-young remained curled up, almost slumped over the table while clutching his cup, Jang Ui-geon passed by, grumbling, “Oh, Kang-hee’s here. …..That brat, why is he waving for us to come out instead of coming in himself, when he’s the one who’s late,” followed by Yoon Jun-young adding nonchalantly, “I guess he’s paying for everything we do today.”
Soon the bell on the shop door rang, and their presence vanished from the store. Even after that, Seo Chi-young could not get up from his seat. He remained curled up and motionless until an employee came and told him it was time to close the shop.
By the time he entered his house, it was already past midnight. He was severely scolded by his parents, who had been waiting anxiously for their son who had never been late without contacting them until then.
That winter break was the worst. He lost several kilograms during the remaining time of the break. Throughout the winter, Seo Chi-young tried with all his might to deny his perception, but after trying every possible method one by one, he had no choice but to admit by the end of that winter that he had no interest in women.
However, nothing changed. Seo Chi-young aged just like his other friends and became a senior in the third year. Since he was in the same class as the previous year, his relationships with his friends remained the same.
He didn’t know how scared he was on the first day he returned to school after the break. Due to the stress caused by fear and anxiety, he spent the few days before the start of the term vomiting everything he ate.
What if the people who had been mere friends until the break looked different? What if he was no longer himself among them? The fear, which he couldn’t bring himself to voice even when his worried mother urged him and took him to the hospital, only completely vanished after two or three more days had passed since the start of school.
It was the same. The world surrounding Seo Chi-young had not changed. The only thing that had changed was inside Seo Chi-young’s head—the realization that the gaze he cast upon Jang Ui-geon was not one of admiration. That was all.
Human adaptability, if one could call it that—is a marvelous thing; before spring ended, Seo Chi-young’s thoughts shifted toward the life of a student preparing for exams. That was the biggest change that occurred in the external world surrounding him.
Slowly, his heart grew numb. There were still occasional nights when he couldn’t sleep due to a sudden surge of anxiety, but it wasn’t to the point where he couldn’t even swallow water, as it had been in winter. Partly because sexual matters had never occupied a large portion of his thoughts to begin with, by the time summer arrived after spring, he was able to laugh and joke with his friends with a peaceful heart again, just as before. Although he had no choice but to keep his mouth shut when his friends talked about the opposite sex, he didn’t freeze up awkwardly for fear of looking strange.
And so summer came. Just as the final break, which could hardly be called a break, approached, a rumor spread through the school.
“…I heard he sleeps with guys too?”
The moment he first heard those words, Seo Chi-young felt his heart drop. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask what or who, and could only stare blankly at the classmate who had let the words slip. Then, suddenly realizing he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, he quickly turned his head away.
When someone asked “Who?” in a curious voice, the answer came immediately.
“Jang Ui-geon.”
Seo Chi-young’s heart dropped for a second time.
The rumor swept through the school before the day was over. Some said it was a malicious false rumor spread by those who hated Jang Ui-geon, others said it was true, some said they had mistaken a tomboyish girl for a boy, and some said that if it was Jang Ui-geon, he probably wouldn’t care whether it was a man or a woman. All sorts of talk floated around, but no one actually asked Jang Ui-geon directly.
Since the rumor had swept the entire school, it was likely that it had reached Jang Ui-geon’s own ears, yet he showed no sign of it. Rather than intentionally hiding it, his attitude remained the same as always, as if it were a trivial matter of no importance. In the meantime, as rumors usually do, it faded away after some time, and summer break soon began.
Even though it was called a break, a senior’s break held no meaning of rest. There were supplementary classes throughout the break, so except for exactly one week, he had to come to school just like during the semester. The only difference was that he took classes in the morning and did self-study in the afternoon; the arrival and departure times were the same.
It was an exceptionally hot summer.
Signs had appeared since spring, but around that time, his father’s words had decreased significantly, and a shadow had fallen over his mother’s face. Even when he cautiously asked if something was wrong or if his father’s business was failing, the answer was simply that he didn’t need to worry. However, life continued to roll on as before, and although Seo Chi-young felt a vague anxiety, he couldn’t ask further.
It happened on a Saturday. I remember it was the last Saturday of August, when the break that wasn’t really a break was almost over, and it was the day the supplementary classes ended.
That day, he went home after the morning classes. The students poured out like an ebbing tide, happy to rest for the mere three or four days remaining of the break, and when the bell rang signaling the end of lunch hour, the school was filled only with scorching sunlight and silence.
Returning from the library after borrowing a book, Seo Chi-young stood in the shade at the end of the empty hallway, gazing at the dazzling sunlight pouring in through the glass windows. Even standing in the shade, he couldn’t escape the sweltering heat, and sweat broke out all over his body.
The sound of cicadas rang in his ears. The distant sound of the sports team practicing on the field could be heard.
When had the school ever been so enveloped in silence at a time when the light poured in so dazzlingly? He stepped forward, feeling as if he had come to another world. Passing two classrooms and arriving at the third, his own class, Seo Chi-young saw one person remaining there.
Jang Ui-geon was sitting on the windowsill with the window thrown open, his eyes closed. His fingers occasionally tapped, tap, tap, against his crossed arm, following whatever music was flowing through the earphones in his ears. However, perhaps because he could still hear external sounds, he opened his eyes and looked at Seo Chi-young as if sensing his presence, but that was all; he merely acknowledged him with a glance and closed his eyes again.
Seo Chi-young stood at the back door and gazed at him blankly.
It truly felt like being in another world. The empty, silent school building. The faint shouts of the sports team and the cicadas filling his ears. The dazzling sunlight pouring down behind his back. And before his eyes, there he was.
“I heard you like men.”
Only after that voice reached his ears did he realize he had said those words. Ah, that’s not it—the nuance was slightly different from the rumor, but it was already too late to correct. Above all, having brought it up himself, he was too flustered to open his mouth further.
Jang Ui-geon opened his eyes. He gave Seo Chi-young a brief glance, then shrugged his shoulders and nodded as if he didn’t care. That was all. A concise and refreshing affirmation, without a hint of displeasure or shrinking. As if it were simply a nuisance, he closed his eyes again.
Seo Chi-young gazed at him for even longer than before. Only after enough time had passed for perhaps several songs to have played, Seo Chi-young spoke.
“I, ….I’m the same.”
Even if a lifetime passed, he would probably never be able to summon that much courage again. It was a single phrase that squeezed out every bit of courage Seo Chi-young possessed.
I’m like you. I like men too. I like you.
The end of his sentence trembled faintly. After a moment, Jang Ui-geon opened his eyes. Glancing at Seo Chi-young, he said a single word, “Yeah?” A response that showed he didn’t particularly care and found it unremarkable; that was all.
Who Seo Chi-young liked, or what kind of person he was, had nothing to do with Jang Ui-geon.
Suddenly, Jang Ui-geon’s gaze stopped somewhere outside the window. His gaze, which had been wandering without interest, became fixed on something. He stared intently, as if even the time it took to blink was a waste.
Seo Chi-young couldn’t see what was there from where he stood, but somehow, he felt he knew.
“…..”