By Zephyria As he spoke, Kim Kyung-chul shrugged as if he didn’t know why either. Seo Chi-young gave a vague nod.
For Seo Chi-young, the reason was unimaginable, but there were indeed people who didn’t particularly care for him. Even without a specific reason or cause, some people simply dislike those—or things, or events—that stand at the center of attention.
“By the way, is Jang Ui-geon’s family well-off? I thought they were just average. What did his father do, run a Chinese restaurant? No, was it a dumpling shop?”
Park Ho-yeon smacked his lips, as if the mere thought made his mouth water. The story that Jang Ui-geon’s family was in the food business had circulated widely a while ago. And the source of that rumor was Jang Ui-geon himself.
Not long ago, while Jang Ui-geon was chatting with his classmates, he mentioned a maternal cousin who had been lazy and idle at home every day, only to be looked upon unfavorably by his maternal uncle and dragged off to the army overnight. In the middle of that story, it slipped out that the uncle had previously served as the Minister of Home Affairs. He hadn’t been the one to say it. A friend—a childhood friend particularly close to Jang Ui-geon—had remarked, “I thought your uncle would have used his connections to get him out, that’s unexpected,” and that was how the story came out.
At that moment, Han Seung-yeol, who wasn’t intentionally joining the group but was standing close enough to hear while looking at them with disapproval, spoke up sneeringly.
‘So what if your uncle is a former minister? Is your father a member of the National Assembly or something?’
Despite the obvious thorn in those words, mixed with a disdainful snort, Jang Ui-geon didn’t seem offended. He looked at Han Seung-yeol and replied with a nonchalant laugh, “No.”
‘My family has nothing to do with that kind of thing. My father steams and sells dumplings at the market. They’re delicious. You should come by sometime and buy some.’
‘Dumplings?’
Han Seung-yeol asked back, his face twisting in a strange grimace. The other classmates had similar expressions, as if they couldn’t even imagine it. The atmosphere, which had momentarily turned chilly due to Han Seung-yeol’s sarcasm, broke after a short silence when one of the classmates said, slightly off-point, “Then you must get to eat dumplings to your heart’s content. Must be nice.”
“Hey, would they still taste good if you ate them every day? My house runs a side-dish shop, and you get sick of it when you eat the same few side dishes every day,” came the mixed chatter of laughter and conversation. In the midst of it, Jang Ui-geon grinned and said, “Yeah, I’m totally sick of them.”
‘A few years ago, before the shop opened, they spent a while reviewing the taste and whatnot, so every time I finished school, I was called over and forced to eat dumplings until I was bursting. It was killing me. Even now, I can’t stand dumplings.’
Han Seung-yeol, who had been staring blankly at Jang Ui-geon as he rubbed his stomach, claiming he felt nauseous just thinking about it, soon turned away with a look of absurdity. Not long after, rumors began to circulate about what kind of shop Jang Ui-geon’s family ran. Those stories eventually faded away, however.
“Back then, Han Seung-yeol probably went around bragging that Jang Ui-geon’s family ran a Chinese restaurant,” Kim Kyung-chul muttered, stealing a sip of Park Ho-yeon’s milk. He turned his back completely on Park Ho-yeon, who glared at him, shouting, “Give it back!”
“What does it matter what someone’s family does,” Seo Chi-young suddenly muttered, having remained silent until then. Beside him, Park Ho-yeon was clamoring that although he got his milk carton back, there was only one sip left, while Kim Kyung-chul shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, I guess if they don’t like someone, they want to turn anything into gossip. But that story has died down now anyway.”
As Kim Kyung-chul said, that story was soon buried by the subsequent rumor that the dumpling shop was actually a high-end chain imported from overseas. To be precise, the story was that one of the shops Jang Ui-geon’s father—who operated a food import business and held several foreign food chains in Korea—had personally overseen and grown over the past few years was a luxury Chinese restaurant.
Seo Chi-young, who was not like the average high school student for whom a single bread from the snack shop took up a large portion of their daily allowance, couldn’t quite grasp the scale of such rumors, but he understood one thing. It was a story from a world as distant as that of ministers and such.
He wished it had just been a common dumpling shop or Chinese restaurant found in a market. Even so, as long as Jang Ui-geon was Jang Ui-geon, nothing would have been different from now, but he could have thought to himself that the vast distance had at least been shortened by a few steps.
Seo Chi-young silently poured ginger tea from his thermos and drank it. His mother had given it to him because he’d had a cold since the day before yesterday. Park Ho-yeon, who had quickly snatched it away, asking, “Why are you drinking this alone?” returned the cup as soon as he smelled the ginger, wrinkling the bridge of his nose. Then, he turned to Kim Kyung-chul.
“But why would he dislike him that much? It’s not like Seung-yeol just hates everyone for no reason, right?”
“Who knows. Maybe a girl Han Seung-yeol liked got snatched up by Jang Ui-geon.”
“Ah—now that you mention it, that makes some sense.”
Park Ho-yeon nodded. He seemed to be recalling the countless rumors that had been updated over time—that he’s dating someone from a certain girls’ high school, that it’s someone else this time, that he went out with a model at a club last night, that someone from the neighboring school confessed to him—all seemingly credible claims.
Seo Chi-young also knew that the words floating around were not mere rumors. Although he had never been to the clubs Jang Ui-geon frequently visited, considering the girls who usually waited in front of the school gate after class or the letters that filled his desk drawer every day, he guessed that the rumors were more likely understated than exaggerated.
“Yeah, it’s understandable that guys would hate him, but seeing as there are only one or two guys like Han Seung-yeol, Ui-geon must have a really good personality. He doesn’t act particularly hateful… I wonder why Seung-yeol doesn’t just get into a fight with him and get it over with. Hating someone is so exhausting.”
Park Ho-yeon muttered, dangling the empty milk carton in his mouth. Kim Kyung-chul snatched the carton and threw it in the trash, tilting his head.
“That guy knows his place. Do you think he’d even dare to think about fighting Ui-geon?”
“True.”
Even without further explanation, Park Ho-yeon understood and nodded. The same went for Seo Chi-young.
The emotions people feel toward a certain person are surprisingly similar. Whether they were the ones joking around and bickering, or those watching from a distance with disapproval, they all unconsciously conceded a step to Jang Ui-geon. No matter how well they got along or joked together, none of them truly believed that Jang Ui-geon was their equal in a real sense.
There were only two people, as far as Seo Chi-young knew, who were practically his equals and to whom he truly opened his heart. For example…
“Ui-geon does get along well with everyone. But I find Yoon Jun-young and Kwon Kang-hee a bit awkward to deal with.”
Looking at the back of someone sitting a few seats ahead, Seo Chi-young shifted his gaze to Park Ho-yeon, who was shrugging. Kim Kyung-chul, glancing toward the person Seo Chi-young was looking at, asked, “Why?”
“Well, with Kwon Kang-hee, I feel like if I accidentally get on his bad side, I’ll be scared to walk down the back alleys, so I’m a bit hesitant. But Jun-young is okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s too blunt and cold. Sometimes, just watching him from the side makes me lose affection.”
“Really? I’ve never spoken to him. Well, I guess that might be true.”
“Still, since Ui-geon is close with everyone, it’s easy to deal with him, even if we don’t have much to talk about. It’s not like he only hangs out with those two; in fact, he hangs out with other guys more often after school. Like at clubs and such.”
As if to cut off the aimless chatter, the warning bell for the end of lunch break rang. Grumbling about having math class while full and sleepy, the two returned to their seats.
Seo Chi-young took out his textbook and looked at the back of the person a few seats ahead. The person stood up, perhaps to get a book from the locker, and walked toward the back of the classroom. Frowning with a face that seemed slightly flushed from a fever, he coughed low a couple of times.
“….”
Jang Ui-geon, who treated everyone with ease, didn’t seem to have much difference in how he treated those two friends compared to others at a glance.
But Seo Chi-young thought otherwise.
In reality, Jang Ui-geon did not go out of his way to put in effort for other people. He was generous in giving advice or sharing his things, but he never ‘did something for someone first.’ Except for those two, that line was the boundary that separated those two friends from everyone else.
For instance, just a moment ago.
Yoon Jun-young, who was sitting a few seats ahead of Seo Chi-young, had merely touched his forehead for a moment, and Jang Ui-geon, who had been chatting with others a short distance away, somehow noticed and unhesitatingly left the group to approach Yoon Jun-young. He placed a hand on his forehead and frowned.
‘Do you have a cold?’
‘I think so. I felt like I had a slight fever since last night.’
‘Tsk tsk, take better care of yourself. Winter hasn’t even fully started yet and you’re already sick. Stay here, I’ll go get some medicine from the infirmary.’
After throwing a jab at his friend, Jang Ui-geon immediately left the classroom. If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have noticed such a minor sign, and even if they had, they would have only given advice to go to the infirmary and take some medicine.
That was the difference between other people and those two friends. Jang Ui-geon sincerely cared for those two friends. Among them, Seo Chi-young—who always found himself watching Jang Ui-geon without realizing it—knew that an even more meticulous level of consideration was reserved for Yoon Jun-young.
“….”
Coughing softly, Yoon Jun-young brushed past Seo Chi-young, took a book from his locker, and returned.
Although Seo Chi-young wasn’t as effortless in dealing with people as Jang Ui-geon, nor was he the type to be shy or timid, he still found Yoon Jun-young difficult to deal with. He always felt cold and blunt, making it hard to strike up a conversation without a reason. It was as if there was no human-like clumsiness or gap to be found in him at all.
Lost in these thoughts, he must have been staring at Yoon Jun-young unconsciously. Their eyes met as the other passed by. To the one who raised an eyebrow in curiosity, Seo Chi-young instinctively held out the lid of the thermos he was holding.
“It’s ginger tea, do you want some? I have a cold too.”
Only after offering it did he recall a memory of hearing Yoon Jun-young tell someone in the past, ‘I don’t really like receiving kindness without a reason. It feels like I’m incurring a debt.’ Since they had never properly conversed until then, he wondered if he would be rejected, but Yoon Jun-young, staring at Seo Chi-young, unexpectedly accepted the cup.
“Thanks.”
His tone was cold, but it wasn’t just a formality. Seo Chi-young gave a barely perceptible nod.
After finishing the ginger tea in three or four sips, Yoon Jun-young returned the lid. Just as he was about to speak, as if he had something to say while gazing steadily at Seo Chi-young, Kwon Kang-hee, who had been out of the classroom during lunch, entered. Because he had such a strong impression of ruling with his fists, there were many rumors at the beginning of the semester that he went up the back mountain every lunch break to fight someone or extort money, but it was only recently revealed that he mostly spent his time napping on the rooftop.
Meeting the eyes of Yoon Jun-young, who was coughing into his fist, he approached with a frown.
“What, you have a cold?”
“Yeah, a bit.”
“What are you doing here? Go lie down in the infirmary.”
Kwon Kang-hee clicked his tongue and grabbed Yoon Jun-young’s arm. Without another word, he pulled him and turned toward the classroom exit.
“It’s not that bad. And Ui-geon said he’d bring medicine.”
“Really? Still, go sleep. You didn’t sleep much yesterday, did you? There are dark circles under your eyes.”
Kwon Kang-hee glanced back at Yoon Jun-young and pulled him again. The cold voice and the blunt voice sounded the same even when talking normally, but based on the tone alone, it sounded like they were having a fierce fight.
Just as Yoon Jun-young was following Kwon Kang-hee without much resistance, Jang Ui-geon returned.
“Huh? Where are you going? Take the medicine first.”
“I’m taking him to lie down in the infirmary,” Kwon Kang-hee said, and Jang Ui-geon let out an ambiguous “Uh…” while looking back and forth between them. Then, he soon grinned.
“Right, that’d be better. Then you take him. The medicine…”
As Jang Ui-geon pulled the medicine from his pocket, Yoon Jun-young suddenly looked at Seo Chi-young. Seo Chi-young, who had been watching them from a distance, shrank back slightly when their eyes met, and Yoon Jun-young pointed to Seo Chi-young with a nod of his head.
“Give it to Seo Chi-young. He says he has a cold too.”
“…. Look at you. Actually caring about someone else. Sure, why not.”
Jang Ui-geon glanced at Seo Chi-young and nodded readily. After staring blankly at the two leaving the classroom, he soon turned and walked back inside.
For a very brief moment, Seo Chi-young saw a bitter, faint smile brush across Jang Ui-geon’s lips. At the same time, he realized what he had seen. What kind of smile it was.
“Here, medicine,” he said, dropping two small pills onto Seo Chi-young’s desk and passing by. While Seo Chi-young watched his back, the bell for the start of class rang.
He silently swallowed the medicine. Soon, a bitterness filled his throat. That bitterness wasn’t just because of the medicine, but Seo Chi-young swallowed that bitter realization along with the pills.
It was toward the end of that year that he discovered the truth he had hoped to remain ignorant of until the end.
Seo Chi-young had always thought of himself as being plain when it came to sexuality. Even though his precocious friends had shown interest in girls and enjoyed talking about such things since elementary school, although Seo Chi-young went along with the conversation to a degree, he wasn’t particularly interested. It was only around the time he entered high school that he began to vaguely think it was strange.
Even when looking at the kind of magazines that students secretly brought to school, his gaze would often drift toward the men photographed with the women in suggestive poses, rather than the women themselves.
At first, he considered it a curiosity of a fellow man, wondering how others were. However, as this happened repeatedly, he realized that the flutter of nervousness he felt whenever he saw such photos was similar to the sensation other boys felt when looking at naked photos of women. But whenever such thoughts surfaced in his consciousness, the fear and anxiety that consumed his mind forced him to desperately turn his head away from those thoughts.
It was during that time that winter arrived. After that winter, he would officially become a student preparing for entrance exams, and Seo Chi-young spent the entire vacation at a study cafe. His mother, saying that staying at a desk all day would harm his health, also signed him up for the gym located in the basement of the study cafe. His daily routine that winter became going to the study cafe early in the morning, stopping by home only for meals, and exercising for about an hour at the gym before returning home late at night.
When he went to the gym late at night after studying, there were almost no people. This was partly due to the time being an hour or two before closing, and partly because of the location, which was awkwardly far from the residential area. There were only about three or four people in the gym, which was quite spacious for a basement. By the time Seo Chi-young finished his workout, there were almost no people left.
However, it wasn’t lonely, as he had started talking to a person he often encountered around the same time, who either worked or lived nearby. He later found out through conversation that the man was a young adult, about ten years older than Seo Chi-young, who worked in a nearby office.
At first, he felt somewhat uneasy. It was because he felt a gaze looking at him with interest. Indeed, when he turned his head, the man was looking at him. That gaze, which seemed to be examining something, strangely weighed on his mind, and although Seo Chi-young tried to look away, his nerves remained on edge. So, when the man suddenly spoke to him, he was startled.
“Are you a student?”
“…, Yes.”
“Where? If you’re around here, is it Jungwon High?”
“Oh, really? I graduated from there too. What, you’re my hubae?”
The man smiled broadly, looking genuinely pleased. The kind smile felt unexpectedly friendly, and Seo Chi-young’s tense heart relaxed slightly. The man approached and stepped onto the machine right next to the treadmill Seo Chi-young was on, starting to run slowly as he turned his head.