By Zephyria 
Yoon Jun-young was unusually quiet today. Instead of speaking, he seemed to be drinking, consuming more than ever before. This had happened before. Yes, it happened whenever Kwon Kang-hee was present. Whenever he shared a space with Kwon Kang-hee, Yoon Jun-young’s words noticeably dwindled. Kwon Kang-hee, for his part, did not make any special effort to strike up a conversation with Yoon Jun-young. To an outsider, they seemed no different from anyone else, exchanging a word or two within the flow of conversation, but it was generally Jang Ui-geon who led the discussion between them.
An atmosphere that seemed normal on the surface, yet was subtly grating.
“…….”
Seo Chi-young suddenly recalled the time Kwon Kang-hee had visited recently. It was around the end of last month.
At first glance, it seemed like an accident, but it was clearly intentional. As Kwon Kang-hee took a cup handed over by Yoon Jun-young, he frowned slightly and pulled his hand away the moment their fingertips touched. It seemed less like a deliberate act and more like an instinctive flinch, but it was certainly not a simple slip of the hand. The glass fell onto the table, rolled off, and shattered on the floor, the alcohol filling the glass splashing out and soaking Yoon Jun-young’s hand and clothes.
Yoon Jun-young’s face froze instantly. That subtle, brief silence was soon smoothed over by Jang Ui-geon, who joked nonchalantly, “Kang-hee, how much have you drunk to develop a tremor like an old man already?” However, after a moment of silence, Yoon Jun-young left the table with a stiff expression, saying he was going to wash his hands.
Although it was brushed off as a mistake, Jang Ui-geon knew it wasn’t—if Seo Chi-young, who had merely been sitting there, could tell, there was no way Jang Ui-geon wouldn’t know. Furthermore, the others—once Yoon Jun-young disappeared from sight—muttered in low voices.
‘Tell him not to be like that. Even if he pretends he’s fine, he’s a mess inside.’
‘…I don’t know what’s inside him, so since you do, you be the one to be nice to him.’
Jang Ui-geon glanced at Kwon Kang-hee, who spoke bluntly as usual. A face that seemed to distort for a moment shifted into a bitter smile, saying, ‘I would if I could,’ and that expression burned painfully into Seo Chi-young’s retinas.
‘I have no intention of forcing someone who says they hate it, but keep it moderate. If I keep seeing this, even I’ll start getting twisted. I keep thinking that a broken person might be easier to get a hold of, that I should just dive in regardless of the means and methods—it’s distressing, really, for me too.’
Even at Jang Ui-geon’s words, murmured slowly like a veiled warning, Kwon Kang-hee didn’t change his expression or even respond. As if he had no further intention of mentioning the matter, Jang Ui-geon smiled and said “Sorry” to Seo Chi-young, who was silently cleaning up the broken glass, and then stood up.
‘Well, I’ll take your advice, Kang-hee, and I’ll be the one to be nice to that guy who’s probably brooding alone. I’ll be right back.’
After Jang Ui-geon gave a light wave and walked toward the restroom, Seo Chi-young picked up the glass shards first and then swept the area in a heavy silence. Kwon Kang-hee, lost in thought while fiddling with a soju glass, entered the corner of his vision. The moment Jang Ui-geon disappeared from sight, a gaze that had frozen with a terrifying coldness sank darkly. However, soon, as if nothing had happened, Kwon Kang-hee emptied his glass with a composed face. Not long after, when the two returned from the restroom, a subtle tension lingered between them for a very brief moment, but soon a mundane conversation followed as if nothing had occurred.
“………”
Perhaps it was similar even now.
Sitting before them, looking no different than before, Seo Chi-young gazed at them blankly. A subtle atmosphere faintly lingering even as they shared a comfortable conversation with smiles.
How was it back in high school?
Back then, he had never seen them from such a close distance. And in Seo Chi-young’s sight, there had always only been Jang Ui-geon. Therefore, how they were together remained only as a vague memory.
“………”
At that moment, his eyes met those of Jang Ui-geon, who was emptying his glass. Seo Chi-young, who had been staring blankly, snapped back to his senses upon seeing Jang Ui-geon looking at him and twitched his eyes. A smile appeared in Jang Ui-geon’s eyes.
“What is it?”
“No… it’s just, you three seem close.”
As Seo Chi-young mumbled vaguely, Jang Ui-geon let out an “Ah” and laughed.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. These two only met through me after entering middle school, so they both owe me a thank you. ….Then again, they were the type of guys who would have found each other even if I wasn’t there.”
As Jang Ui-geon chuckled, Kwon Kang-hee raised an eyebrow in curiosity and looked at him. Yoon Jun-young also glanced at Jang Ui-geon.
“On the first day of middle school, Jun-young went up to the podium as the freshman representative. Ah… I’ve never seen Kwon Kang-hee stare so intently at anyone, neither before nor after that.”
As Jang Ui-geon smiled, drawing out the end of his sentence, Kwon Kang-hee’s expression seemed to stiffen for a moment, but it was soon hidden behind a blunt, unreadable face. Yoon Jun-young’s face also turned cold for a second.
Kwon Kang-hee staring intently at someone… Seo Chi-young couldn’t even imagine such a sight.
However, he knew what that moment was. The moment when one’s gaze cannot leave someone. The moment when the voice of the person next to you is unheard, and only that person’s image fills your vision; Seo Chi-young had experienced such a moment too.
Even now.
Though not as intense as it was back then, the one who stood out most clearly among the three was a certain person.
Aware of this fact, Seo Chi-young slowly lowered his gaze.
“He just stared at the podium as if he couldn’t hear me calling him from the side, and the first thing he muttered when Jun-young stepped down was, ‘A guy like me, who’s only good at fighting, would never be friends with someone like that.’ Good grief… Once I said, ‘He’s my friend,’ that guy, who looked like he’d lost his soul, whipped around to look at me immediately…”
“Stop it.”
It was Yoon Jun-young who cut Jang Ui-geon off. As if he had been subjected to the worst kind of ridicule, the mouth that had remained silent even when Kwon Kang-hee had brushed off his hand or frowned was now faintly twisted.
“There’s no point in bringing up such stale stories. People change.”
A voice as sharp as a frozen blade cut the air. Jang Ui-geon fell silent. However, as if he had vaguely guessed such a reaction would come, he neither frowned nor looked awkward. He simply said a short “Sorry” and tilted his glass.
Silence flowed for a while. The sounds of voices drifting from within the shop filled the void. I didn’t mean to say that to them, I didn’t know they’d react like that, should I try contacting them—sigh-filled words flowed out like complaints.
Regret and longing overflowed commonly everywhere in the world. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have done it that way. If I could go back to that time…
Seo Chi-young closed his eyes. The cool night breeze, which he had forgotten until then, caressed his skin. If he could go back, where would he want to return to? He had thought about it several times. Even knowing it wouldn’t happen, he thought about it seriously, but the conclusion was always the same.
Just as it is now.
It wasn’t comfortable or cozy, and his youth was now fading, but just as it is now—that was enough.
However, there was one thing, one image he wanted to see again. The deep blue shadow that formed a vivid contrast with the dazzling golden sunlight, the sight of him sitting by the window with his eyes closed—that image was always etched longingly in his mind.
But the time spent soaking in memories did not last long.
“We had the formal family meeting last month. We’re getting married before autumn.”
Because Kwon Kang-hee had spoken in a brief tone, disrupting the short, lingering reverie and breaking even the stillness of the place.
A silence heavier and colder than the night air froze over. Kwon Kang-hee did not look at Yoon Jun-young, who was staring at him with wide eyes, nor at Jang Ui-geon, who had stopped moving and was looking at him. He only stared at the glass he had emptied unusually often today.
Eventually, Jang Ui-geon slowly broke that silence.
“Before autumn..? Haha, what, are you trying to rush into this like a wildfire?”
“I said let’s do it quickly. I want to get it over with.”
“…That woman you’re seeing now, you didn’t even show that you liked her that much.”
Kwon Kang-hee did not answer. Even though he must have known the glass-like gaze of Yoon Jun-young, who was staring blankly at him. He didn’t give him a single glance.
The smile that had been thrown with a “You’re joking, right?” tone slowly vanished from Jang Ui-geon’s lips. Glancing at Yoon Jun-young, he frowned slightly and just as he opened his mouth to say, “Look, Kwon Kang—,” Yoon Jun-young spoke a step ahead of him.
“Because of me?”
It was a quiet and calm statement. Only then did Kwon Kang-hee look at Yoon Jun-young for the first time.
“To quickly shake off a person who clings like a leech just because of one mistake?”
As the quiet words flowed, the corners of Yoon Jun-young’s own mouth twisted.
“Do you think you’ll get rid of me by doing that?”
Seo Chi-young closed his trembling lips.
When had he ever engaged in such self-deprecation?
Yoon Jun-young was a cold and intelligent person. Although he was sometimes misunderstood because he was clumsy in dealing with people due to a lack of interaction, he was merely unskilled, never selfish or malicious.
With only the pride and self-assurance that he was not wrong, regardless of how others viewed him, he had pushed forward while enduring the avoidant gazes of people. Self-mockery flowing from such a person. Words like a deadly poison that stained himself pitch black.
Seo Chi-young felt his fingertips growing cold and quietly curled his fingers.
Kwon Kang-hee looked at Yoon Jun-young with pitch-black eyes, as if he were glaring, his thoughts unknown. Eventually, a single, heavy response came from his mouth.
“Yes.”
Yoon Jun-young’s expression seemed to turn pale. But before Yoon Jun-young could say anything, and before a frowning Jang Ui-geon could open his mouth, Kwon Kang-hee stood up.
“I hope you’ll definitely come to the wedding. …I have to leave first. Take your time and finish your drinks.”
He took a few bills from his wallet and pressed them into Seo Chi-young’s hand as if tossing them to him, then turned and walked away without hesitation. The sound of his heavy footsteps was soon buried by the noise of cars and people coming from the main road, leaving only Yoon Jun-young and Jang Ui-geon behind.
Seo Chi-young, who had been flustered holding an excessively large amount of money, looked down at the two silent men and first put the money in the bin under the counter. Then he slowly and awkwardly sat before them.
Yoon Jun-young was staring down at the empty glass in front of him as if he were frozen. And beside him, Jang Ui-geon quietly emptied his own glass.
A slow silence flowed for a while. One glass, then another; Jang Ui-geon, who had been emptying his glass alone, filled it halfway and, as the bottle ran empty, said to Seo Chi-young with a formal smile, “One more bottle, please.” Only then did he mutter slowly to Yoon Jun-young—without even looking at him—as if talking to himself.
“I’m telling you, just date me.”
The low, calm mutter flowed lightly, almost like a joke. Whether because of the alcohol or some other reason, Yoon Jun-young slowly turned his reddened eyes to look at Jang Ui-geon.
“My heart is going to rot away from watching you two. Seriously, just date me. Then let’s follow that guy on his honeymoon and ruin the whole mood.”
This time, mixing in more jokes, Jang Ui-geon looked Yoon Jun-young straight in the eye. Yoon Jun-young had no expression. Jang Ui-geon’s gaze, which would normally be cheerful and affectionate, was now relentless. As if unable to withstand the piercing gaze, Yoon Jun-young was the first to turn his head away. Only then did a faint, bitter light hover on Jang Ui-geon’s face as he watched Yoon Jun-young.
“What, you don’t want to tag along on his honeymoon? …Then why don’t you go chase him now.”
Yoon Jun-young did not answer. Instead, after a short silence, he stood up. “I’m leaving first,” were his only words.
However, Yoon Jun-young’s steps as he left the shop were not in the direction Kwon Kang-hee had disappeared, but toward the uphill part of the market. He was heading toward where his house was. Jang Ui-geon glanced at him and clicked his tongue, but he didn’t chase after him or shout anything.
The radio, which had been left on with no one listening, announced midnight. The customers who had occupied the tables in the shop also stood up, and the shop, with only the lights brightly lit, became desolate. And only Jang Ui-geon remained.
Seo Chi-young sat quietly across from him. He kept his gaze near Jang Ui-geon’s chest and listened to the radio, from which quiet music played continuously. It was a bitter and silent night.
How much time had passed? At some point, breaking the silence, Jang Ui-geon laughed lowly. At that laugh, which sounded like air leaking, Seo Chi-young only raised his eyes. Rubbing his temple as if slightly exhausted, Jang Ui-geon was looking at Seo Chi-young and smiling.
“You’re like a human-sized doll. Just blinking. …I think that’s just your personality, but when there’s not a whole table of guests and just one person left, I think you could at least tell them it’s time to close and ask them to leave, but it seems those words just won’t come out.”
Saying that someone so gentle would probably struggle quite a bit to run a business selling alcohol, Jang Ui-geon’s face as he laughed was the same as always. However, Seo Chi-young did not laugh along with him. As he only stared at him with a silent face, Jang Ui-geon’s smile seemed to fade for a moment, but then he lightly shrugged his shoulders as if nothing had happened.
“I’m telling you, my heart has been aching because of those two for more than a day or two. I’ll make sure not to do that. I don’t know how many times I’ve thought, watching those two, that when I find someone I truly like, I should just charge in without any hesitation or worry.”
“…But you like that person.”
When Seo Chi-young spoke quietly, the smile vanished from Jang Ui-geon’s face for a very brief moment. The smile vanished from the gaze looking at Seo Chi-young, and for a moment, Seo Chi-young thought he had said something he shouldn’t have.
But as if it had never happened, Jang Ui-geon brought the smile back to his eyes and said, “That’s true.”
“They’re the most precious friends in my life. Both of them.”
Seo Chi-young fell silent. Both Seo Chi-young and Jang Ui-geon knew that the meaning Seo Chi-young intended and the meaning Jang Ui-geon responded with were different.
While staring intently at Seo Chi-young, who remained silent without affirming or denying, Jang Ui-geon slowly erased his smile again. The gaze devoid of a smile was as cold as a blade; unable to face it, Seo Chi-young lowered his head. Even then, the gaze that pierced Seo Chi-young eventually softened with a hollow laugh like a sigh.
“You seem so quiet and gentle… do you ever hear people say you’re different from what they expected?”
The voice, not as sharp as the previous gaze, had a faint hint of amusement, and only then did Seo Chi-young raise his head again to see Jang Ui-geon smiling as usual. Seo Chi-young hesitated and shook his head. He hadn’t heard such things very often.
“Hmm.., is it strange to be gay?”
Eyes smiling, yet not caring if it was considered strange, looked at Seo Chi-young as if gauging something. Seo Chi-young shook his head again.
No. Because I am too.
He didn’t utter those words. Because he knew Jang Ui-geon would just brush it off with a “Is that so?” as if it were nothing, just as he had in the past. What Jang Ui-geon was asking now was not that.
Jang Ui-geon stared intently at Seo Chi-young, who had shaken his head. Burdened by that direct gaze, Seo Chi-young blinked awkwardly. Seeing something in those eyes, Jang Ui-geon’s eyes suddenly narrowed. A low laugh and a mutter to himself followed: ‘You’re subtly interesting….’
Seo Chi-young looked at Jang Ui-geon with a puzzled face, but he was looking at Seo Chi-young with a faint smile, as if lost in thought. It might have been his imagination, but those eyes seemed to have softened just a little. Enough for Seo Chi-young to be able to meet that gaze, despite the awkwardness.
“Do you think I like Jun-young?”