Summer season volume 1

1. Ipha (立夏), The Beginning of Summer

 

Bzzzz—

The long buzz of the doorbell rang through the house, where until then the only sound had been the cheerful melody of a game. Eun-ho paid no attention to it, keeping his eyes fixed on the character on his phone. He was determined to break his personal record today. He had started this round with his last remaining heart, so he couldn’t afford to lose his concentration. None of the people around him played this game, either, which meant there was no one he could ask to send him another heart.

 

The cute, cookie-shaped character dashed towards the right to the sound of bouncy music. Its remaining health was dropping rapidly, but the finish line was just ahead. The cookie slid smoothly along the ground, dodging the icicles falling from the sky. One wrong move and the entire run would be over.

 

Sweat gathered in Eun-ho’s palms, and just as he adjusted his grip on the phone with both hands, the doorbell rang again. Distracted by the noise, Eun-ho hesitated. Even though he knew perfectly well it was the exact moment he needed to jump, his right hand hit the slide button instead. The tiny winged cookie dropped straight through the gap, and the words GAME OVER filled the screen.

 

“Haah…”

 

Eun-ho let the arm holding his phone fall over the edge of the sofa and raised his other arm to cover his face.

 

“I would’ve cleared it if I’d just got past that bit. I was almost at the end, fuck…”

 

Bzzzz—

 

Whether it knew or cared about the rage and regret battling inside him, the low mechanical buzz filled the house again. It was the third time the doorbell had rung. For fuck’s sake, that bastard could just come in. Why the hell does he keep ringing the bell? Eun-ho muttered irritably under his breath.

 

It was a lazy Sunday morning. The only reason he was already awake was that he had never been the type to sleep late. Most normal people would still be enjoying a lie-in at this hour. Even those people who wandered around in groups of two or three asking strangers whether they knew about ‘the Way’ didn’t start this early. No sane person would repeatedly ring somebody else’s doorbell at a time like this.

 

There was only one person around Eun-ho who would do such a thing.

 

“You fucking bastard, just put the code in and come inside!”

 

Still lying on the sofa with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Eun-ho shouted towards the front door. Apparently his voice carried, because a moment later came the cheerful beeping of the keypad being pressed.

 

‘What a waste. Seriously.’

 

There were still seventeen minutes left before he got another heart. He really could have cleared it this time. That damned bastard was entirely to blame. With the slap of slippers against the floor, a tall figure appeared in the living room where Eun-ho lay. Eun-ho narrowed his eyes and glared at the person responsible for ruining his precious record.

 

“You lunatic. You know the bloody password, so why the fuck are you ringing the doorbell first thing in the morning?”

 

“You’re the one swearing first thing in the morning. What are you getting so worked up about?”

 

Do-hyeon’s hair was still damp, as though he hadn’t been out of the shower for long. He casually placed his bag beside the sofa, looking completely unfazed by the irritation hurled at him the moment he walked in. It was obvious he was used to this.

 

“No, I was playing a game, and your stupid doorbell made me jump, so I died. That was my last heart.”

 

“Really?”

 

At Do-hyeon’s completely indifferent answer, Eun-ho gave an incredulous laugh. Do-hyeon ignored him and stood by the dining table, calmly taking off his wristwatch. If someone was this visibly annoyed, most people would at least offer a token apology. Cha Do-hyeon didn’t appear to have even considered it.

 

Annoying bastard. Eun-ho grumbled under his breath, making Do-hyeon snort softly.

 

“Your mum and dad might’ve been home. They’d be startled if I just punched in the password and walked inside.”

 

What a load of rubbish. Even if Cha Do-hyeon opened their front door at one in the morning, Eun-ho’s parents were the sort of people who would ask whether he was tired and start putting dinner on the table for him. Even the stray cats wandering around outside probably knew Eun-ho’s parents were happier to see Cha Do-hyeon than their own son.

 

“Play with that instead.”

 

Do-hyeon tossed his phone onto Eun-ho’s stomach before speaking. Then, as naturally as if this were his own home, he opened Eun-ho’s bedroom door and disappeared inside. Rubbing his stomach, Eun-ho turned on Do-hyeon’s phone. A photograph of several people gathered in front of a brilliant blue sea appeared on the lock screen. It had been taken during the summer holiday in their first year of high school, when both families had gone to Jeju Island together.

 

Cha Do-hyeon looked considerably younger in the picture. Apparently planning some prank, he was smiling down at Eun-ho. The other people standing with the turquoise sea behind them looked equally carefree. Seeing all of them gathered together and smiling somehow felt unreal now. Maybe it was because they could never take a photograph like that again.

 

Zero. Seven. One. One.

 

Eun-ho slowly entered the password. The blue lock screen disappeared, replaced by neatly organised app icons. He found the app with the cookie icon and opened it. Do-hyeon apparently hadn’t touched the game since the few times they had played together just after installing it, because an enormous list of updates immediately appeared.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho, where are my tracksuit bottoms?” Do-hyeon asked as he came out of the bedroom.

 

“Ah, those. I put them in the washing machine. Just grab something else and wear it.”

 

“All your trousers will probably be too short for me.”

 

At the mocking tone, Eun-ho finally tore his eyes from the phone and glared at Cha Do-hyeon. The bastard was undeniably tall, standing there with his weight on one leg as he leaned against the doorframe. The eyes looking down at Eun-ho were full of amusement. One hundred and seventy-seven centimetres wasn’t exactly tall, but it wasn’t short enough for someone to look down on him like that.

 

Fine, he was three centimetres short of 180, but he was still growing. There was plenty of time left for him to get taller. Besides, he was considered fairly tall compared with most of the boys in his class. The more excuses that popped into his head, the more annoyed Eun-ho became.

 

Cha Do-hyeon, who had already reached 185 centimetres before they even graduated from middle school, would never understand the feelings of people like him.

 

“Oi. Just pick up whatever you can find and wear it!”

 

Eun-ho yanked the cushion from beneath his head and threw it at him. Do-hyeon caught it easily before shrugging. He really did have a gift for pissing people off. Eun-ho rolled onto his side and touched the screen again. Without the cushion, keeping his arm raised at eye level was uncomfortable. Thinking murderous thoughts about Cha Do-hyeon, Eun-ho repeatedly jabbed at the slowly filling loading bar.

 

A moment later, the main screen appeared, with the most basic cookie character standing in the centre. Its stats were awful, so Eun-ho had only ever used it when he was a penniless low-level player. Seeing it again after so long, though, its plain little appearance was surprisingly cute. After collecting all the random rewards for returning to the game, Eun-ho opened the item menu. A mailbox icon stuffed full of notifications was glowing in the upper-right corner. He tapped the sparkling envelope.

 

Kim Hyun-woo sent you a heart!

Lee Yoo-jin sent you a star fragment!

Kim Do-eun requested a heart. Tap below to send your friend a heart!

 

The mailbox was packed with hearts and items sent by all sorts of people, men and women alike. The game had been released quite a while ago and had long since fallen out of fashion, yet there were dozens of profile pictures still waiting for responses. Eun-ho slowly scrolled down, examining them. That annoying bastard certainly had a lot of friends. You’d think spending even a little time around him would be enough for people to realise there was a massive difference between his respectable appearance and his actual personality.

 

Apparently far more poor souls than expected had been fooled by Cha Do-hyeon’s polished looks and seemingly friendly first impression. Eun-ho clicked his tongue, silently offering them his condolences. Letting this many hearts rot away would be disrespectful to all the people who had sent them. After checking Do-hyeon’s level and discovering he still hadn’t even escaped Beginner Island, Eun-ho pressed the start button. He might as well raise Cha Do-hyeon’s level while he was here.

 

As the bare little cookie ran forwards all alone without a single friend beside it, Do-hyeon emerged after changing and casually opened the fridge. Because the trousers were slightly too short, his ankles were completely exposed.

 

“Ice cream?”

 

“Yeah. Something with chocolate in it.”

 

“Doesn’t look like there is any.”

 

Eun-ho, absorbed in the game, didn’t bother answering. Do-hyeon glanced towards him before giving up and pulling a two-litre bottle of water from the fridge instead. He unscrewed the cap, tilted the bottle up and drank without letting his mouth touch it. The cute little beeps and pops of the game continued in the background.

 

Wiping his mouth, Do-hyeon gave a quiet snort of amusement and walked towards the sofa. Eun-ho was enjoying himself far more than expected on Beginner Island. The plain bald cookie moved frustratingly slowly, and without pets or upgraded items he had to pay attention to every move, but it wasn’t as if he was short on hearts or time. Besides, the stages were fairly easy and short, so there was something satisfying about clearing one after another without much trouble.

 

The cookie, now wearing a red ribbon around its neck, was lightly hopping over an obstacle when Eun-ho suddenly felt something cool against his ankle. Do-hyeon had lifted his legs to sit in the space.

 

“Ah, just sit on the bloody floor.”

 

Without answering, Do-hyeon took a book from his bag and placed the ankle he was holding on top of his thigh. As a result, Eun-ho ended up lying down with his calves resting across Do-hyeon’s legs. What kind of position was this for two grown men? The thought crossed Eun-ho’s mind, but he didn’t say anything.

 

Do-hyeon had become increasingly touchy lately, and Eun-ho suspected it had something to do with the approaching anniversary of his parents’ deaths. No matter how mature and calm Cha Do-hyeon seemed, he was still only nineteen. Even though he had always been close to Eun-ho’s family, it couldn’t possibly give him the same sense of security as having his real family around. His only sister travelled overseas frequently for work, too, which meant Do-hyeon spent most of his time alone.

 

The moment Eun-ho thought about Do-hyeon’s parents, who had died in an accident, a bitter taste seemed to fill his mouth. It had already been two years. They had died in their first year of high school. Do-hyeon had been in the same class as Eun-ho at the time. In the middle of a lesson, he had been summoned to the staff room. He returned with a deathly pale face, hurriedly packed his bag and left.

 

Eun-ho hadn’t found out what had happened until break time. He rushed to the hospital and found Do-hyeon standing in the corridor with a rigid expression, holding his older sister tightly. His parents had been on a trip together ahead of their wedding anniversary when they were caught in a multi-vehicle collision. They had both died at the scene.

 

Eun-ho’s entire family stayed at the funeral hall throughout the three-day funeral. Even when Do-hyeon’s sister told him repeatedly that he didn’t have to, Eun-ho remained beside Do-hyeon for all three days while they both wore black mourning clothes. 

 

He couldn’t remember whether he had looked at Do-hyeon, who hadn’t shed a single tear throughout the funeral, and thought he was mature or whether he had thought, as usual, that the bastard was frighteningly tough. 

 

What Eun-ho remembered most clearly was Do-hyeon’s back after everything had ended, when he found him crying alone behind the building.

 

The mourning armband with two black stripes around the left arm of his pitch-black suit had looked unusually harsh. Do-hyeon didn’t remain buried in grief for long. His sister ran a fairly large company, so there had never been any financial problems. 

 

Things could never return completely to how they had been, but little by little, Do-hyeon returned to his ordinary life.

 

Eun-ho thought he had treated Cha Do-hyeon much more gently during that period as well. It wasn’t because of pity or because he felt sorry for him. He had realised that Cha Do-hyeon, the mature, capable bastard who seemed to be good at absolutely everything, was still just a kid like him. But people didn’t change that easily.

 

It had only taken Eun-ho a few months to return to his usual personality. Humans really were shameless creatures. As if on cue, the words GAME OVER appeared above the collapsed cookie on the screen. Eun-ho immediately pressed the button and turned off the display.

 

Thinking about the past had suddenly killed his desire to play. Besides, Cha Do-hyeon’s thigh beneath his calf was hard and raised too high to be remotely comfortable. 

 

Whether Do-hyeon knew what was going through his head or not, he continued turning the pages of his book. Eun-ho put Do-hyeon’s phone on the table, grabbed the remote beside it and switched on the television.

 

Loud laughter instantly filled the house. There wasn’t anything in particular he wanted to watch, but nothing caught his attention either, so he kept pressing the channel button. Scenes flicked past one after another until Eun-ho stopped on a channel showing what was apparently the most popular drama at the moment. 

 

A man and woman were half-reclining against a bed, creating a distinctly suggestive atmosphere. The heavy thoughts from a few moments ago vanished from Eun-ho’s mind as he focused on the screen.

 

The woman, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, climbed on top of the man. When she pushed him backwards against the bed and kissed him, urgent music began playing. The next shot showed her removing the man’s shirt, while the background music grew quieter. The rustle of fabric and wet sounds of their mouths filled the silence.

 

Eun-ho turned his eyes sideways and glanced at Do-hyeon. For some reason, the sound of his own swallow seemed unusually loud. 

 

Cha Do-hyeon appeared completely uninterested in the suggestive scene on television, calmly reading his book with an indifferent expression. Perhaps it was because Do-hyeon’s hands were colder than average. Or perhaps Eun-ho’s body temperature had risen simply from watching the scene. Either way, the hand resting against his calf suddenly felt strangely unfamiliar.

 

The nearly shirtless man switched positions with the woman on top of him, and the atmosphere intensified. A close-up of their lips separating filled the screen.

 

‘They can show this much on regular television now?’

 

The scene was sexual enough that Eun-ho found the 15+ age rating in the upper corner almost unbelievable. For a teenage boy in the prime of his life, this sort of thing was undeniably stimulating. 

 

Still, concentrating on it while someone else was sitting beside him was embarrassing. 

 

Eun-ho deliberately cleared his throat.

 

“Cha Do-hyeon, have you ever kissed someone?”

 

“What?”

 

Do-hyeon finally raised his head, looking utterly baffled by the sudden question. Eun-ho took the opportunity to lower the volume by two levels. With the television's sticky sounds quieter, an unfamiliar silence settled in the room instead. He had blurted the question out without thinking, mostly to hide his embarrassment.

 

Now that he had asked, though, Eun-ho genuinely wanted to know the answer. Most boys their age considered it a matter of pride to brag about how far they had gone with their girlfriends or describe their more intimate experiences as though it proved they were adults. Even the idiots Eun-ho knew spent their days snickering about who they had done what with and where.

 

“No, seriously. You must’ve done it before. Is it good?”

 

Eun-ho felt slightly pathetic talking about things that normally came out of the mouths of people like Kim Gun-woo, but he couldn’t remember ever hearing Cha Do-hyeon talk about girls. He often heard rumours that Do-hyeon had been confessed to again, or that someone from another school had asked for his number, but Cha Do-hyeon himself had never once said he was dating anyone.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho, you walk around pretending you’re so worldly, but you’re still a baby.”

His voice was full of laughter. Technically, Eun-ho couldn’t argue because he didn’t have any experience, but the mocking tone irritated him. He lifted his foot and kicked the thigh beneath it hard. Apparently it did little damage, because Do-hyeon’s quiet laughter swallowed the dull thump.

 

It wasn’t as though Eun-ho had never had a girlfriend. The problem was that they always dumped him before the relationship got anywhere because he was apparently too prickly and indifferent. Since starting high school, girls his age no longer approached him first.

 

No.

 

Thinking about it again, it wasn’t just girls. Apart from the hopeless idiots he occasionally hung around with and Cha Do-hyeon, he didn’t seem to have anyone he could really call a friend.

 

Eun-ho’s face twisted bitterly.

 

His bleak social life was the complete opposite of Cha Do-hyeon’s mailbox overflowing with hearts.

 

“I heard someone from another school asked for your number again recently. What school was she from? Is she pretty?”

 

“Where the hell do you hear these things?”

 

“Oi, half the kids who waste time hanging around the streets after school are people I know. Listening to those bastards gossip first thing in the morning is better than having paparazzi following you. Anyway, that’s not the point. Have you kissed someone or not?”

 

Eun-ho was becoming increasingly frustrated by Do-hyeon’s refusal to give him a straight answer. Whenever Kim Gun-woo or Seo Jae-won talked about this sort of thing, Eun-ho usually ignored them entirely. But because it was Cha Do-hyeon, he couldn’t help being curious.

 

“If you’re that curious, try it sometime.”

 

At the strange tone of his voice, Eun-ho turned towards him. Do-hyeon was still staring at his book, one corner of his mouth curved upwards. After casually throwing out the irresponsible comment, Do-hyeon leaned forward to reach for his phone on the table. His stomach pressed down against Eun-ho’s calf. Was his entire body made of muscle? Every part that touched Eun-ho felt annoyingly hard.

 

“Ah, you know there aren’t any girls around me. Don’t you know anyone decent? I’m not exactly a terrible person to introduce someone to, am I?”

 

“Who could put up with Yeo Eun-ho’s personality?” Do-hyeon snorted as he spoke.

 

Unfortunately, Eun-ho couldn’t think of a single argument against that.

 

‘Annoying bastard.’ He muttered under his breath.

 

The suggestive scene seemed to have ended, and now the television was showing office workers. Eun-ho fiddled with his phone and glared at Cha Do-hyeon, who was giving half-hearted answers. Apparently the bastard had no intention of telling him anything. Pouting, Eun-ho lay there, watching the actors have a serious conversation before changing the channel. 

 

A solemn-faced news anchor. People sitting in a circle laughing and talking. A home-shopping programme displaying delicious-looking food. The scenes jumped past one after another. There really was nothing worth watching on a Sunday morning.

 

Eun-ho pressed the remote and switched the television off. Silence settled over the house. At some point, the sun had moved, casting long shadows deep into the living room. It was a lazy, boring weekend.

 

Still lying down, Eun-ho put aside the remote and stretched his arms and legs. Cha Do-hyeon’s thigh pressed solidly beneath him.

 

‘He doesn’t seem to exercise much these days. Do muscles really stick around that well once you’ve built them? Maybe I should start working out.’

 

While Eun-ho entertained himself with the pointless thought, Do-hyeon suddenly pushed his legs aside and stood up. The way he immediately headed towards the kitchen looked suspicious.

 

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you protesting because I’m too heavy?” Eun-ho complained at the back of Do-hyeon’s head.

 

“Stop talking rubbish and let’s eat lunch. Want ramen?”

 

Do-hyeon bent down and rummaged through the cupboard beneath the kitchen counter. At his perfectly normal voice, Eun-ho lowered his head again and relaxed into the sofa. Feeling along the top of the sofa, his fingers found the small air-conditioner remote. He brought it down and pressed a button.

 

Beep.

 

A low mechanical hum began filling the house.

 

“Oi, don’t put water on. Let’s order chicken.”

 

“Fine.”

 

As if someone who couldn’t cook should be making ramen anyway. Muttering to himself, Eun-ho reached towards his phone so he could open the delivery app. His arm wouldn’t quite reach the centre of the table. It was too far away to use his feet, and lifting himself seemed like too much effort.

 

After waving his hand uselessly a few times, Eun-ho gave up and decided to remain where he was until Cha Do-hyeon came back. He stared blankly at the ceiling. Sunlight falling across the sofa tickled his legs. A peaceful atmosphere drifted through the house.

 

Eun-ho wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right there. Do-hyeon stood in the kitchen making various clattering noises for a while before apparently going into the small bathroom beside it. The faint sound of running water leaked through the closed door. Maybe he was washing his face. Whatever he was doing, the water ran for quite a while.

 

Eun-ho stretched both arms above his head, sprawled across the sofa and closed his eyes. The quiet hum of the air conditioner nearby and the distant sound of running water blended into something like white noise.

 

‘I’ll make Cha Do-hyeon order the chicken. That picky bastard will insist on plain fried chicken again. If he starts complaining when I say I want boneless, I swear to God. But what the hell is he doing in there? Why isn’t he coming out…?’

 

Under the drowsy summer sunlight, Eun-ho’s consciousness slowly faded. He slipped into a shallow sleep. The sound of water running continuously from the bathroom grew distant. Then, finally, it stopped.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

Beep, beep-beep, beep. Click.

 

Eun-ho was lying on his bed reading a comic when he heard the electronic lock and the sound of someone entering the house. He checked his phone. It was already nine o’clock. Leaving the comic face-down on the bed, Eun-ho went into the living room. His mother was putting two boxes she had carried inside onto the dining table.

 

“What did you bring all that for? Where’s Dad?” Eun-ho leaned over the boxes curiously.

 

“Don’t even ask. Do you know how many customers we had today? Your father has to stay at the restaurant. For a while, we’ll probably have to take turns staying until closing.”

 

Eun-ho’s parents ran a fairly large barbecue restaurant in the neighbourhood and spent much of their time there. It wasn’t because business was bad or they didn’t have enough staff. Their reasoning was simply that no matter how well employees worked, nobody looked after a business as carefully as its owner.

 

“What’s this? Red ginseng? I don’t need stuff like this.”

 

Eun-ho opened one of the boxes and pulled out a pouch—six-year-old red ginseng. The gold lettering against the deep red packaging looked expensive. Just as he put a corner between his teeth to tear it open, his mother urgently smacked the back of his hand.

 

“What are you doing? Put that back properly! That’s Do-hyeon’s.”

 

“Cha Do-hyeon? Why?”

 

“What do you mean, why? I heard Do-hyeon came first in the entire school in the latest mock exam. Studying is one thing, but from now on it’s a battle of stamina. I was buying some for your father anyway, so I bought some for Do-hyeon too.”

 

“This one’s Dad’s? And one is Cha Do-hyeon’s? Then where’s mine?”

 

Eun-ho had no idea how someone who spent nearly all day at the restaurant could have heard such news. Even more unbelievable was the sight of his mother worrying exclusively about Cha Do-hyeon’s health while showing no concern whatsoever for her own son.

 

“You literally just said you didn’t need it. And why would I waste expensive red ginseng on someone who doesn’t even study?”

 

It wasn’t really about the ginseng. It was the completely natural progression from Dad to Cha Do-hyeon, with her own son apparently not entering her thoughts at all, that Eun-ho found unbelievable. He let out a small, incredulous laugh.

 

“I’ll leave one box by the front door. Get up early tomorrow morning and put it in Do-hyeon’s fridge.”

 

“Ah, that’s annoying. Just tell Cha Do-hyeon to come and get it.”

 

“Tsk! Why would I make Do-hyeon waste time going back and forth when he needs to study? You take it.”

 

For daring to complain, Eun-ho received a smack on the back. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that his mother loved Cha Do-hyeon more than the child she had actually given birth to. Do-hyeon didn’t need to worry about ringing the bell so Eun-ho’s parents wouldn’t be startled. If they ever moved house, they would probably tell Cha Do-hyeon the new door code before they told Eun-ho.

 

Out of spite, Eun-ho pulled a red ginseng pouch from his father’s box and tore it open.

 

“Bloody annoying… Now I’ve got to wake up early to take this over.”

 

His face twisted at the sweet yet bitter flavour filling his mouth. The distinctive taste of red ginseng lingered on his tongue.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

Early the following morning, Eun-ho raised his left hand to the keypad.

 

Zero.

Seven.

One.

One.

 

When he entered the four digits of Cha Do-hyeon’s birthday, the lock chirped, and the door opened. The first thing he saw upon stepping inside was a neatly arranged pair of black canvas shoes. Eun-ho kicked off his white trainers carelessly and shoved them roughly beside the other pair before heading inside. He placed the heavy box of red ginseng he had carried from home onto the dining table.

 

Thud.

 

His palm, marked white from the weight of the box, tingled. Do-hyeon apparently hadn’t woken up yet. The house was completely silent. Eun-ho opened the fridge and began gathering the red ginseng pouches. Thanks to the housekeeper who visited regularly, the shelves were neatly organised with side dishes and fruit.

 

As Eun-ho transferred the pouches into the vegetable drawer one by one, the fridge began beeping in warning. His brows drew together slightly.

 

“Oi, Cha Do-hyeon! Hurry up and get up!” Eun-ho shouted towards the closed bedroom door.

 

There was no noticeable response. Unlike Eun-ho, who woke at the slightest sound, Cha Do-hyeon slept deeply once he was out. After folding the empty box roughly and propping it beside the rubbish bin, Eun-ho put a slice of bread in the toaster. Then he took cereal from the cupboard and poured some into a bowl. The colourful doughnut-shaped cereal was one of his favourites.

 

Leaving the fridge open, he took out some cold milk and poured it over the cereal. Pink and yellow rings floated to the surface. After returning the milk, Eun-ho took out some juice and placed it on the table. The expensive-looking carrot juice in the square glass bottle was Cha Do-hyeon’s preferred choice. Breakfast was more or less ready, yet the owner of the house showed absolutely no sign of getting up.

 

“What am I, his bloody nanny?”

 

Muttering, Eun-ho marched down the hallway and opened Do-hyeon’s bedroom door. Thin light leaked through the gap in the blackout curtains. When he stepped farther inside, he found Cha Do-hyeon lying perfectly straight in the centre of the large bed. Apparently he hadn’t tossed or turned even once during the night, because the fringe across his forehead was still neatly arranged.

 

Even after nineteen years, Eun-ho still wasn’t used to the fact that the corners of Do-hyeon’s mouth naturally turned upwards slightly even when he was asleep and expressionless. Maybe never waking up with a swollen face was simply genetic. Or perhaps it was all that freshly squeezed carrot juice. Either way, the bastard had been blessed with unfairly good genes.

 

“Oi, Cha Do-hyeon. Wake up and go wash!” Eun-ho stared down at Do-hyeon, who didn’t even twitch at his raised voice.

 

For a moment, he considered fetching a glass of water and pouring it over his face. Then he imagined having to deal with the wet bedding afterwards and abandoned the idea. Smacking him hard across the back didn’t seem particularly wise either. If he accidentally gave that obsessive lunatic an excuse to retaliate, God only knew what Cha Do-hyeon would do.

 

After considering his options, Eun-ho walked to the window and yanked the curtains open. The plastic curtain rail scraped cheerfully as brilliant light flooded the room. 

 

As summer deepened, sunrise had become earlier, and the morning sunlight was already surprisingly intense.

 

“Ugh…”

 

A low groan came from behind him. Then came a rough, sleep-heavy voice.

 

“…What time is it?”

 

“Get up and wash. It’s half seven, you bastard.”

 

For someone it didn’t suit at all, Cha Do-hyeon was terrible at waking up in the morning. What the hell did he do at night to be this exhausted? Did he stay up studying until dawn? Once Eun-ho saw Do-hyeon frowning against the brightness, he turned towards the door. He seemed awake enough now. Eun-ho planned to go back to the kitchen, eat his cereal and wait. Just as he reached for the door handle—

 

Grab.

 

His other wrist was suddenly caught. Do-hyeon pulled him backwards by the wrist while lifting one side of the duvet at the same time. Caught completely off balance, Eun-ho fell forwards onto the empty side of the bed. Do-hyeon immediately wrapped his arms and legs around Eun-ho, trapping him beside him. Because Eun-ho was comparatively smaller, he ended up looking as though Do-hyeon’s embrace had completely swallowed him.

 

‘What the hell is this?’

 

Confusion spread from Eun-ho’s brain through his entire body. He froze with his breath caught in his throat. It took several seconds to process what had just happened. He had only come in here to wake Cha Do-hyeon. Somehow, he was now lying in the same bed, trapped in his arms. The body pressed against Eun-ho’s back was hard everywhere. The prominent bulge pressing against his lower back was particularly fucking disgusting.

 

“Oi! You fucking lunatic! Have you lost your mind?!”

 

Eun-ho’s horrified shout and the loud rustling of the duvet shattered the silence of the bedroom. Do-hyeon’s slow breathing brushed against his ear, sending goosebumps racing down both of Eun-ho’s arms. Being hugged from behind by another man wasn’t something he had ever imagined experiencing, especially not in bed.

 

Feeling as though insects were crawling all over his body, Eun-ho thrashed wildly.

 

“…Yeo Eun-ho?”

 

“Yes, you fucking bastard! Are you insane? What the hell are you doing first thing in the morning?”

 

Apparently amused by how horrified Eun-ho was, Do-hyeon tightened his arms around him even after realising exactly who he was holding. The soft laughter behind him made it clear he found the whole situation entertaining. The lunatic had apparently woken up and immediately decided to discover a brand-new method of tormenting Eun-ho.

 

“Cold.”

 

“Are you actually fucking insane? It’s nearly July! What do you mean you’re cold, you psycho? Get off me! Why the fuck are you hugging me from behind like some creep?”

 

Do-hyeon’s hand around Eun-ho’s wrist was unusually cold, but that was because the bastard apparently had terrible circulation, not because of the weather. 

 

Eun-ho shuddered and decided his mother buying Do-hyeon red ginseng must have been some prophetic instinct. 

 

They were rapidly approaching the point in summer when nobody would be surprised if the sunlight melted the tarmac. How the hell could anyone claim they were cold?

 

No matter how much Eun-ho struggled, he couldn’t overpower Cha Do-hyeon. Eventually, he raised his elbow and drove it hard into Do-hyeon’s side. Only then did Do-hyeon loosen his arms. 

 

Eun-ho immediately kicked himself free and scrambled off the bed. He had gone in to wake someone up and somehow ended up feeling as though a rabid dog had attacked him.

 

“Ugh…”

 

Apparently the elbow had actually hurt, because Do-hyeon curled slightly and his shoulders began shaking. For a moment, Eun-ho wondered whether he had hit him too hard. Then again, without doing it, he would probably still be flailing around on the bed. Technically speaking, this was obvious self-defence.

 

Eun-ho had been an innocent citizen who had prepared breakfast and come in to wake someone from his peaceful slumber. That bastard had attacked first.

 

“What kind of psycho wakes up and immediately loses his fucking mind? Oi, if you don’t come out soon, I’m leaving without you. Seriously, you lunatic.”

 

Eun-ho hurriedly fixed his hair and clothes and flung open the door. Before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder at Cha Do-hyeon. Only then did he realise Do-hyeon wasn’t shaking in pain. He was laughing. Of course.

 

A guy who had spent years being hit and kicked during sports practice wasn’t going to curl up in agony over one elbow. Seeing him laugh only made Eun-ho angrier. He lifted his foot and kicked the duvet. Then he slammed the bedroom door behind him. Low chuckling leaked through from the other side.

 

‘There really was no cure for lunatics.’ Eun-ho muttered viciously while rubbing at his entire body.

 

By the time Eun-ho was sitting on the sofa and had eaten half of his now-soggy cereal, Do-hyeon finally emerged with a towel draped around his shoulders. 

 

Do-hyeon walked into the kitchen while buttoning his summer uniform shirt from the bottom upwards, then picked up the golden-brown toast and held it between his teeth. 

 

Cha Do-hyeon always buttoned his shirts right up to the neck as though it didn’t bother him at all. Eun-ho, who practically lived in loose black short-sleeved T-shirts, couldn’t understand his taste.

 

“By the way, what are you doing here this early?”

 

Only then did Do-hyeon look at Eun-ho with a puzzled expression while chewing his toast. Eun-ho began gathering up his cereal bowl. 

 

Ever since Cha Do-hyeon had started visiting Eun-ho’s house less often because he wanted to concentrate on studying, Eun-ho had begun spending more time at Do-hyeon’s. They had been together constantly since childhood, so Eun-ho sometimes found being alone at home boring. And occasionally he worried about Cha Do-hyeon eating dinner alone in an empty house.

 

If he were being truthful, though, it was mostly because he enjoyed being somewhere he could lounge around doing absolutely nothing without an adult nagging him. Worrying about Do-hyeon eating alone was ridiculous anyway. Cha Do-hyeon ate dinner at school, attended evening self-study, and sometimes even stayed for late-night self-study. If he heard Eun-ho claiming to be concerned about him having lonely dinners, he would probably laugh in his face.

 

Eun-ho’s mother didn’t know that, though. Every time Eun-ho said he was going to Do-hyeon’s house, she seemed delighted. Still, all of that happened after school. Eun-ho rarely came to Do-hyeon’s house this early in the morning. Unless his own uniform hadn’t dried and he needed to steal one of Do-hyeon’s shirts, or his parents had given him an errand, there was no reason to see Cha Do-hyeon’s face first thing in the morning.

 

He had been looking at that face for nineteen bloody years. There was no need to deliberately start every new day with it. Eun-ho assumed Cha Do-hyeon probably wasn’t thrilled about opening his eyes and seeing Eun-ho first thing either.

 

“Ah, Mum bought some red ginseng juice for Dad and apparently bought you some too. I put it in the vegetable drawer. She said you’re supposed to drink one every morning.”

 

“Tell her I said thank you.”

 

“Tell her yourself, you bastard. She’ll be happier hearing it from you anyway. I’ve decided she’s not my mum anymore. She’s yours.”

 

“What happened this time?” Do-hyeon chuckled at Eun-ho’s grumbling.

 

“No, seriously. Aren’t I in my final year too? She completely left me out and bought red ginseng for Dad and you. Favouritism, much?”

 

“What are you going to do with all that extra stamina when you don’t even study?”

 

“Oi! Do you think I’m complaining because I didn’t get any bloody red ginseng?”

 

Like mother, like son. Do-hyeon had said almost the same thing as Eun-ho’s mother. He really was her child after all. Eun-ho glared at him irritably. Do-hyeon, apparently entertained, quickly finished the remaining half of his toast and rubbed his damp hair with the towel around his shoulders. Seeing that he looked more or less ready, Eun-ho poured the remaining cereal down the sink.

 

Thanks to Cha Do-hyeon behaving like a lunatic first thing in the morning, it had gone completely soggy and tasted awful. Standing at the sink, Eun-ho rolled up his sleeves and looked around. He had turned on the tap to wash the dishes, but there were no rubber gloves.

 

“Just leave it. I’ll wash it when I get back.” Do-hyeon had somehow approached without Eun-ho noticing and reached around him from behind.

 

Remembering the bizarre stunt Do-hyeon had pulled in bed earlier, Eun-ho’s body stiffened before he could stop himself. But the pale hand that had come close turned off the tap and withdrew again. The loud rush of water immediately disappeared.

 

“Ah… Fine. Whatever.”

 

Feeling slightly embarrassed by his own overreaction, Eun-ho quickly shook the water from his hands and picked up the bag he had left on a chair. Do-hyeon opened the fridge, took out two red ginseng pouches and held one towards him.

 

“Want one?”

 

“No thanks, bastard. You drink plenty and make sure you get into Seoul National University.”

 

For some reason, even that ordinary remark made Do-hyeon grin. Apparently he was in an unusually good mood this morning. Eun-ho headed towards the entrance, bent down and began pulling on his trainers. The bitter smell of red ginseng drifted from behind him. He could almost taste yesterday’s faint sweetness again, making saliva gather in his mouth.

 

They had already been wearing their summer uniforms for some time, but there was still a coolness in the air during the mornings and evenings. A gentle breeze blew past, ruffling Eun-ho’s hair. Walking with earphones in and his eyes fixed on his phone, Eun-ho swept his fringe back and raised his head. Do-hyeon was walking about three steps ahead.

 

Whenever they walked somewhere together, Eun-ho usually ended up following behind rather than walking beside him. Part of it was because Eun-ho constantly distracted himself with one thing or another while walking. But a larger part was probably simply Cha Do-hyeon’s personality. He always looked straight ahead and kept moving.

 

Cha Do-hyeon didn’t even fiddle with his phone while walking, let alone listen to music. He claimed it interfered with whatever thoughts he wanted to have while he walked. It wasn’t as though he carried flashcards or books around and studied them, either. He walked straight ahead with his hands in his trouser pockets.

 

They rarely had much to talk about on the journey to school, so neither found it awkward to do their own thing while they walked. If anything, deliberately matching each other’s pace and walking side by side would probably feel stranger. 

 

When Eun-ho followed Cha Do-hyeon while staring only at his phone, he often had no idea where they were until they passed through the school gates. Still, Cha Do-hyeon wasn’t going to lead him somewhere strange, so there was no reason to worry about it.

 

When Eun-ho happened to look up properly, the scenery along the route suddenly felt unfamiliar. He switched off the video he had been watching and put his phone away. The leaves, which not long ago had still carried the pale yellow-green colour of spring, were now a bright, lush green. Fresh leaves that had only recently unfurled. Translucent green leaves preparing to toughen beneath the summer sun. They swayed gently in the wind.

 

Eun-ho quickened his pace and slung an arm around Do-hyeon’s shoulders. The height difference made it slightly uncomfortable because his own shoulder had to rise, but on a season this full of life, it seemed only right to recreate at least one scene from a youth drama. As much as he hated to admit it, Eun-ho suited the role of troublesome delinquent while Cha Do-hyeon would make the warm, dependable male lead.

 

“Oi, Cha Do-hyeon. Are you dating someone these days?”

 

Another breeze passed through the trees, making the leaves rustle. Dappled shadows trembled across the road, and patches of sunlight moved over their uniforms. 

 

Do-hyeon turned and looked at Eun-ho as though wondering what sort of rubbish had just come out of his mouth. The blue early-summer sunlight reflected across his face. His expression clearly said he thought Eun-ho had lost his mind.

 

“Oii, who is it? Do I know her?”

 

“That might be the most creative bit of bullshit you’ve come up with lately.”

 

Do-hyeon shook his head and laughed incredulously.

 

“Oh, stop pretending. You were pretty bloody comfortable grabbing someone this morning. You act like you’re soooo busy studying, but apparently you’ve been busy dating instead. How long have you been seeing her?”

 

“Dating? When would someone in their final year have time for that?”

 

“Cha Do-hyeon, love is supposed to bloom through adversity. People meet at cram school while preparing to retake their exams. They flirt while job hunting. Haven’t you heard stories like that? Stop studying all the time and watch a drama occasionally.”

 

Do-hyeon laughed, apparently entertained, and pulled Eun-ho’s arm from his shoulders. The skin of his hand against Eun-ho’s wrist felt cool.

 

“So that’s where Yeo Eun-ho gets his imagination. Eun-ho, I think you’ve finally found your calling.”

 

By now, Do-hyeon could have answered him. Instead, he smoothly redirected the conversation. Thanks to that, Eun-ho was starting to look like some perverted film director harassing an unwilling actor. They were also getting close enough to school that Eun-ho began noticing people glancing towards them.

 

Cha Do-hyeon was neatly dressed in his white uniform shirt, while Eun-ho wore a black T-shirt with his own shirt carelessly draped over his shoulders. The contrast between them was probably fairly striking. 

 

There probably wasn’t anyone at school who didn’t know about Eun-ho and Cha Do-hyeon’s relationship, but from the wrong angle it could look like a delinquent harassing an innocent model student. Eun-ho pouted.

 

“Forget it. I don’t care anymore.”

 

He did feel slightly hurt that Cha Do-hyeon apparently had secrets even from him. Still, Eun-ho deliberately acted casual so it wouldn’t look as though he was sulking over something so insignificant. 

 

Whoever this incredibly important person was, apparently Do-hyeon couldn’t even tell Eun-ho about them. They weren’t strangers, for God’s sake. They were them.

 

Eun-ho walked ahead of Do-hyeon, then spotted the discipline teacher standing at the school gate and immediately slowed down.

 

“Ah, fuck. He’s here. He hasn’t been out here for days.”

 

Grumbling under his breath, Eun-ho hurriedly pulled on the summer uniform shirt he had thrown carelessly over his shoulders. The stiff collar scratched around his neck. 

 

He fastened a couple of buttons at random. Apparently, he had mismatched them because the two sides twisted at a diagonal.

 

There were wrinkles all over the shirt from the way he had carried it crumpled up, but he didn’t care. He would take it off again as soon as he made it through the gate. 

 

Eun-ho absolutely hated the uniform shirt. It pulled around his shoulders when he raised his arms, and the collar felt suffocating.

 

The discipline teacher stood at the gate like a guard, tapping a long stick against his shoulder. Eun-ho quietly slipped amongst a group of students heading inside. The moment his eyes met the teacher’s disapproving stare beneath one raised eyebrow, Eun-ho forced an awkward smile.

 

“Hello.”

 

He barely moved his lips and gave a tiny nod. The teacher gestured with the stick.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho, you little shit. Get over here. Do you call that wearing your shirt? You’ve practically thrown it over yourself. Fasten those buttons properly.”

 

“Ah, bloody…”

 

“What was that? Fasten it properly right up to the neck!”

 

He was already wearing a T-shirt underneath and had fastened half the bloody thing. Teachers in Korea really were ridiculously conservative. Whatever happened to respecting students’ individuality? Eun-ho pouted sulkily.

 

“Good morning.”

 

As Eun-ho began undoing the mismatched buttons from the top, Cha Do-hyeon’s voice came from beside him. Eun-ho raised his head. Do-hyeon was quietly staring at Eun-ho’s fingers undoing the buttons. Eun-ho had no idea what was so fascinating about it that he needed to stare.

 

Coming to Cha Do-hyeon’s house at the crack of dawn really had been a mistake. Do-hyeon had said the same greeting Eun-ho had, yet apparently it sounded completely different coming from him. The discipline teacher’s voice immediately brightened.

 

“Oh, Do-hyeon! You’re a little late today, aren’t you?”

 

“I overslept this morning.”

 

“Of course. That happens when you’re tired sometimes. You must be busy with student council work too. You know looking after your health is just as important as studying, right?”

 

“Yes. Thank you.”

 

Watching Do-hyeon lower his sharp eyes and smile pleasantly, Eun-ho let out an involuntary scoff. It was so fake that it almost made him wonder whether this was what people meant by "social skills". No matter how Eun-ho looked at him, it seemed obvious that Do-hyeon was only smiling with his eyes to disguise how indifferent his actual gaze was. Apparently the discipline teacher couldn’t tell. He patted Do-hyeon proudly on the shoulder.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho, you can go too. And start getting here earlier.”

 

His expression turned stern again as he lightly smacked Eun-ho’s backside with the stick. Apparently, Cha Do-hyeon oversleeping was understandable, but Eun-ho, who had arrived at the same time, needed to come earlier. The contradiction was unbelievable. Eun-ho pouted when the teacher wasn’t looking.

 

As they walked through the gate towards the main building, Eun-ho examined Do-hyeon’s expression again. The usual indifferent gaze met his. Do-hyeon looked perfectly calm, as if absolutely nothing unusual had happened. Eun-ho burst out laughing in disbelief.

 

“Wow, Cha Do-hyeon. You fake bastard.”

 

Only then did Do-hyeon apparently understand what Eun-ho meant. Slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. As they bickered their way towards the main building, more and more students began greeting them. Most of those greetings, naturally, were directed at Cha Do-hyeon.

 

The great student council president of Huiungo certainly knew many people. First- and second-year students who approached from a distance with bright smiles would suddenly flinch when they noticed Eun-ho walking crookedly beside him. Their expressions made it obvious they were surprised that the rumours about student council president Cha Do-hyeon and delinquent Yeo Eun-ho being friends were actually true.

 

Because Eun-ho treated Do-hyeon’s classroom like his own living room, most third-years already knew about their friendship. But they rarely arrived at or left school side by side like this, so to the younger students it probably sounded more like some strange rumour. Even Eun-ho had to admit they were an odd combination. 

 

The student council president and the troublemaker. Neat, proper Cha Do-hyeon and rough Yeo Eun-ho. A white uniform shirt and a black T-shirt. Juice and milk. That was about the size of the difference between them.

 

“It’s actually pretty good coming to school with Yeo Eun-ho,” Do-hyeon said while continuing forward with his usual blank expression.

 

Thinking about it again, Eun-ho supposed living every day while hiding your real personality and pretending to be endlessly kind couldn’t be easy either. Maybe Cha Do-hyeon suffered more than people realised. Completely forgetting that he had called him a fake bastard only moments ago, Eun-ho patted Do-hyeon’s back consolingly. With that many students approaching with sparkling eyes to greet him, how many people could respond with a completely expressionless face?

 

Maybe, depending on how Cha Do-hyeon behaved, coming to school together occasionally wouldn’t be so bad as long as there was never another incident like this morning. The memory immediately resurfaced. Eun-ho put considerably more strength into the hand patting Do-hyeon’s back.

 

“Oi, you—!”

 

Thump.

 

Do-hyeon bent forwards.

 

Eun-ho was slightly surprised by the size of his reaction, but he remained completely unapologetic. Considering what Cha Do-hyeon had done that morning, the bastard deserved several more hits. Even though Eun-ho firmly believed that, his steps began getting faster.

 

“I’m going ahead!” Eun-ho shouted back at Do-hyeon before sprinting towards the classrooms.

 

It definitely wasn’t because he was worried Cha Do-hyeon might stop smiling and chase him. From somewhere behind him came an incredulous laugh and what sounded like Do-hyeon telling him to wait.

 

Eun-ho didn’t slow down.

 

The warm breeze carried the scent of grass and the unmistakable smell of early summer.