Summer season volume 1

2 Minor Fullness (小滿), The Beginning of Serious Farming

 

A meeting had been scheduled to discuss the invitation forum for outside guests that was due to take place soon. Even though lunchtime had already begun, the meeting showed no sign of ending, and one by one the student council members began fidgeting in their seats. 

 

Seeing that nobody could concentrate anymore, Do-hyeon quickly wrapped things up. It was an important matter, but he had no intention of working everyone to the bone during their precious, short lunch break.

 

“Then we’ll end today’s meeting here.”

 

Someone in the corner cried out, “Yes!” and everyone burst into laughter. Seeing how desperate they were to race off to the cafeteria, Do-hyeon smiled and gathered the A4 sheets scattered in front of him.

 

“I’ll tidy everything up, so hurry up and go eat.”

 

“Whoa! You’re the best, sunbae. Seriously!”

 

As one of the second-year boys shouted and bolted from the meeting room, the others who had been dawdling nearby began leaving their seats one after another. 

 

Do-hyeon gathered the papers he was holding into a neat pile and began undoing the button at his throat when he felt someone staring at him. It was Hyun-young, the boy who had been lingering around for a while as though he had something he wanted to say.

 

“Vice-president, why aren’t you going?”

 

Hyun-young, who had been lounging back against his chair as though he had been waiting for Do-hyeon to ask, blinked lazily and looked at him. 

 

He had neatly tucked his long hair behind his ears and turned his whole body towards him. The pose looked surprisingly confident. 

 

Despite only being a second-year, he had a bold personality, and that was one of the reasons Do-hyeon was particularly fond of him among his juniors.

 

Perhaps because Do-hyeon’s expression made him look cold whenever he wasn’t smiling, very few people felt comfortable around him. Yet from the moment they had first met, Vice-president Kim Hyun-young had spoken to him without the slightest hesitation. 

 

He had introduced himself as second-year Kim Hyun-young and confidently told Do-hyeon that even if he couldn’t be much help with a senior’s work, he certainly wouldn’t get in his way. If he had been the sort who only talked big and never backed it up, Do-hyeon would have ignored him. But Hyun-young had proved himself to be a surprisingly compatible partner.

 

He had a habit of confronting unreasonable arguments head-on, made a genuine effort to consider whether his own opinions were actually right, and confidently insisted that seniority didn’t automatically make someone correct. Do-hyeon liked that about him.

 

Whenever half-baked suggestions came up during meetings, Hyun-young could never hide what he thought. Sometimes he would even step in first and organise the discussion himself. 

 

For Do-hyeon, it was impossible not to like a junior like that. Once, a few third-year boys had approached the pretty-faced Hyun-young and made a crude joke.

 

Hyun-young had replied, “I’m telling you because you don’t seem to realise what you’re doing could count as sexual harassment. Say one more word, and I’ll take the recording straight to the vice-principal.”

 

When Do-hyeon heard about it, he practically applauded him in his head.

 

After the boys fled and Do-hyeon approached Hyun-young, who had been left alone, he asked, “Kim Hyun-young, did you really record what they said?”

 

“No. I left my phone in the classroom.”

 

That was when Do-hyeon realised just how much he liked Hyun-young, not romantically, but as a friend.

 

“Sunbae! You came to school with Eun-ho sunbae this morning, didn’t you? I saw you.”

 

Do-hyeon’s previously indifferent expression shifted slightly at the unexpected name, but Hyun-young didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Eun-ho?”

 

When Do-hyeon asked again, wondering whether he meant the Eun-ho he knew, Hyun-young answered firmly.

 

“Yes. Third-year Yeo Eun-ho sunbae.”

 

“Yeah. We came together…”

 

Hearing a name he had never expected from Hyun-young’s mouth, Do-hyeon felt his brow tense without even realising it. He looked at him warily.

 

“Sunbae, you’re close with Yeo Eun-ho sunbae, right? I heard you’ve been friends since you were little.”

 

From that very first sentence, Do-hyeon could already guess what was coming next. 

 

Hyun-young had never had any contact with Yeo Eun-ho before. The fact that he was deliberately bringing him up meant he had probably heard some rumour and wanted to confirm it for himself.

 

“Could you introduce me to him? I really like that type.”

 

“No.”

 

Perhaps he had expected to be rejected immediately, because Hyun-young didn’t look particularly disappointed. 

 

Do-hyeon had heard first- and second-year girls whispering among themselves before about Eun-ho’s round, double-lidded eyes and plump lips, saying that he looked cute. 

 

What Hyun-young was saying now was no different from what those girls had said. It was all nonsense from people who had never had to deal with Yeo Eun-ho’s temper.

 

People really didn’t know what they were talking about. Even a starving Korean snake would probably think twice before biting him.

 

“Oh, why? From what I’ve seen, it’s probably just the crowd he hangs around with that’s a bit rough. That sunbae himself doesn’t seem particularly strange.”

 

Eun-ho seemed convinced that his tall, slender build meant he monopolised the attention of the opposite sex, but the truth was that he had been even more popular back in middle school. 

 

His round eyes, framed by thick double eyelids, looked almost absurdly well matched with his pale skin and brownish hair. He was too pretty to be called handsome, yet his nose and jaw were too sharply defined to call him feminine. 

 

It wasn’t only girls who were attracted to him.

 

Not long after they entered high school, back when Eun-ho had been much smaller than he was now, Do-hyeon had once overheard some older boys talking about him behind his back. 

 

If Do-hyeon hadn’t been friends with him and constantly by his side, Eun-ho might have been dragged somewhere and beaten half to death more than once. Of course, Do-hyeon had beaten the bastards half to death first. 

 

In any case, it wasn’t unusual for people to quietly show an interest in Eun-ho like this.

 

Whenever someone asked whether he could arrange an introduction because he seemed close to Eun-ho, Do-hyeon always answered with a smile instead. 

 

Since starting high school, though, Eun-ho had never really mixed with girls from other schools, so it had been a long time since Do-hyeon had heard anyone around him say something like this.

 

“Eun-ho sunbae is cute, don’t you think? He’s taller than me, but his face makes him look kind of… like a rabbit. I really love that sort of look.”

 

Hyun-young was clearly labouring under a serious misunderstanding about Yeo Eun-ho. If he watched the bastard for a few days, there was no way he would ever compare him to a rabbit. 

 

Do-hyeon stood up without bothering to respond and began tidying the area around him. As he cleared away the papers and folded the chairs, Hyun-young followed behind him and whined.

 

“Ah, sunbae, are you seriously going to keep ignoring me like this? Let’s have a meal together on the weekend. I’ll buy you something good.”

 

Do-hyeon picked up the materials he had left on the desk and silently headed for the meeting-room door. He reached for the light switch beside it, then opened his mouth while looking at Hyun-young, who was still dawdling towards him from a distance.

 

“Find someone else. He’s mine.”

 

Click.

 

The meeting-room lights went out, but the light spilling in from the corridor illuminated Hyun-young’s face perfectly. His expression said he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. 

 

Watching him hesitate, unable to decide whether Do-hyeon was joking or serious, Do-hyeon grinned.

 

“You’re not coming? I’m going to eat first.”

 

Do-hyeon lightly tossed the meeting-room key to Hyun-young and turned towards the cafeteria. Hyun-young locked the door, muttering something under his breath, then hurried after him.

 

“Ah, sunbae, what the hell? Are you seriously acting all possessive over your childhood friend? What is this? Come on, let’s go together!”

 

Do-hyeon liked Hyun-young’s cheekiness and had grown fond of him, but there was no way he could agree to introduce him to Eun-ho. Besides, there was something Kim Hyun-young clearly didn’t understand.

 

Yeo Eun-ho wasn’t the cute type. He was the pretty type, the sort whose sharp edges made him beautiful. Do-hyeon snickered to himself as Eun-ho’s round eyes came to mind.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

The cafeteria was quieter than usual because they had arrived late. As soon as they picked up their trays from the nearly empty serving counter, the kitchen staff greeted Do-hyeon and Hyun-young.

 

“Oh my, if it isn’t our former student council president and vice-president. Why are you two so late?”

 

“The meeting ran a little long. Please give us plenty!”

 

When Hyun-young greeted the kitchen staff brightly, more side dishes than usual were piled onto their trays.

 

“Yes, yes, eat plenty. Do-hyeon, you enjoy your meal too.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Do-hyeon frowned slightly at the sight of the cucumber mixed through the salad piled high on his tray. He wasn’t allergic to it, but the grassy smell peculiar to cucumber was something he hated almost as much as milk. 

 

Holding his tray, he looked around for a suitable table when a familiar head of bright brown hair immediately caught his eye. 

 

That bastard usually came running to the cafeteria the second the bell rang. It was strange enough that he was sitting there alone today.

 

Do-hyeon frowned slightly and looked at Eun-ho. Hyun-young, who had followed him over, spotted him too. His face lit up, and he grabbed Do-hyeon by the arm.

 

“Hey, isn’t that Eun-ho sunbae? Wow, perfect! Let’s eat together!”

 

Do-hyeon frowned but couldn’t think of any particular reason to refuse. When he walked over and put down his tray with a less-than-enthusiastic expression, Eun-ho’s already round eyes widened even further as he looked up at him.

 

“Sunbae! Hello!”

 

Hyun-young placed his tray opposite him and greeted him naturally. Eun-ho answered awkwardly.

 

“Huh? Ah… yeah. Hi.”

 

“Can we sit here and eat with you?”

 

“Do whatever you want.”

 

“Great. I was hoping I’d get to eat with Do-hyeon sunbae, so I got lucky.”

 

For two people who had only just met, Kim Hyun-young spoke impressively naturally. Do-hyeon, unable to hide his displeasure, poked miserably at the salad on his tray while Eun-ho spoke to him.

 

“Why are you eating so late?”

 

“Executive meeting.”

 

Eun-ho nodded at Do-hyeon’s indifferent answer as if that explained everything. Watching them, Hyun-young quickly joined in.

 

“Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m second-year Kim Hyun-young. I’m the vice-president of the school.”

 

“So that’s why you came with him. Hi.”

 

“You’re third-year Yeo Eun-ho sunbae, right? I saw you coming to school with Do-hyeon sunbae this morning.”

 

Do-hyeon glanced at them.

 

Hyun-young was carrying the conversation far more smoothly than he had expected, and Eun-ho was answering him just as naturally. 

 

Do-hyeon suddenly found himself feeling sorry for the innocent pieces of cucumber on his plate.

 

“What about you? Where are the others? Why are you eating alone?”

 

“They went without me. They said they’d wake me up during the fourth period, then went off to eat ramen together. Fucking bastards.”

 

Despite the words, Eun-ho answered without sounding particularly resentful. Looking at him properly, Do-hyeon noticed his face was slightly puffy, as though he had only recently woken up. 

 

Hyun-young had been irritated with Do-hyeon for repeatedly interrupting whenever he tried to exchange more than a sentence with Eun-ho.

 

‘I didn’t know Cha Do-hyeon sunbae could be this childish. Is he seriously acting like he doesn’t want his friend stolen away or something?’

 

Hyun-young looked suspiciously between Eun-ho and Do-hyeon. Eun-ho, meanwhile, was turning over the side dishes with a sulky expression when he lifted the chopsticks he had been holding and moved them towards Do-hyeon’s tray. 

 

He took the lettuce covered in pale yoghurt dressing from Do-hyeon’s plate, lifted it, then picked up the cucumber sliced beneath it and popped it into his own mouth. Hyun-young stared at him in surprise.

 

Is he taking the chopsticks he was eating with and putting them on the tray of someone with a pathological obsession with cleanliness? Even more surprising was that Do-hyeon continued eating without reacting at all. 

 

Hyun-young remembered a time when Do-hyeon had casually taken a sip from a drink he was holding. Do-hyeon had smiled as if it didn’t bother him, but he had never put his lips to that drink again afterwards.

 

Whenever the student council went out for a meal, and everyone shared dishes, Do-hyeon chose restaurants where food was served individually. Even on days when they all shared a stew, he never touched anything except what had already been placed on his own plate. Watching him, Hyun-young had long since concluded that their former student council president was a hopeless germaphobe.

 

Yet now…

 

Unable to hide his confusion, Hyun-young opened his mouth.

 

“Do-hyeon sunbae… weren’t you a germaphobe?”

 

Eun-ho tilted his head.

 

“Cha Do-hyeon is ridiculously fussy about cleanliness, but he’s not a germaphobe.”

 

Then he picked up a fish cake from his own tray and held it out towards Do-hyeon’s mouth. Do-hyeon looked at Hyun-young expressionlessly before accepting the side dish from Eun-ho.

 

“See? He doesn’t really care about stuff like that.”

 

Hyun-young stared at Do-hyeon as though he had just witnessed something horrifying. 

 

Do-hyeon had been the one who wouldn’t even touch the water bottle Nam had handed him during a meeting, yet Eun-ho was the only person at this table eating calmly without noticing anything strange. 

 

When Hyun-young widened his eyes and stared at him, Do-hyeon gave a crooked smile and shrugged. Then he lifted his chopsticks and blocked Eun-ho’s as they moved towards Do-hyeon’s salad again, the undersides of their chopsticks catching against each other.

 

“I told you that was mine.”

 

“Ah, seriously. You bastard who doesn’t even like cucumber. Fine. I’m done eating anyway, so I’m leaving first.”

 

Eun-ho stood up, grumbling, completely unaware of the tension behind Do-hyeon’s earlier words to Hyun-young. His eyes met Do-hyeon’s, whose gaze had turned strangely intense.

 

‘I told you he was mine. Don’t even think about touching him.’

 

It was the most perfectly restrained warning Cha Do-hyeon could give in his own way. 

 

Do-hyeon ignored Hyun-young, who was staring at him with an expression of utter disbelief, and calmly continued his meal.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

The third-year classrooms at Huiungo were located on the first and second floors of the main building. Perhaps the school had placed them there so students preparing for university entrance exams wouldn’t waste time climbing stairs, but with the classrooms so close to the sports field, the noise from outside came straight in, making the arrangement seem rather pointless. 

 

Eun-ho’s classroom was right at the far end. More than half of the window beside it was obscured by trees. In the early summer sunlight, their lush green leaves cast shadows over the seats at the end of the first row, and Eun-ho often sat quietly staring out of the window.

 

With faint music leaking from someone’s earphones in the background, he sat blankly watching outside and felt as though he had been dropped into a world completely separate from everyone else.

 

‘Everyone else is studying so hard because they’re going to university. What the hell am I supposed to do after I graduate?’

 

The thought made his heart feel a little heavy. 

 

His parents kept telling him he didn’t have to go to university immediately and that he should take his time deciding what he wanted. Still, the problem was that there wasn’t anything in particular he wanted to do. 

 

Whenever thoughts like this crept in, Eun-ho found himself envious of Cha Do-hyeon, who had quit the taekwondo he was good at and thrown himself into preparing for the university entrance exam. 

 

A faint snickering sound broke through the quiet classroom.

 

Eun-ho lifted his head and saw Jae-won, who was sitting in the next row, sneeze.

 

Their eyes met.

 

Jae-won casually picked up his phone and began tapping on the keypad. Eun-ho took his own phone from where it had been lying face-down and wedged against one side of the drawer.

 

Yoo Won-ho: Hey, hey, hey. Surprise. We’re getting a transfer student in our class today.

Jae-won: Bullshit. How would you know that?

Yoo Won-ho: I’m serious. Hak-joo caught me this morning and dragged me to the staff room.

Yoo Won-ho: Some guy I’ve never seen before was talking to our homeroom teacher.

Yoo Won-ho: Hundred per cent a transfer student.

Kim Gun-woo: What kind of lunatic transfers schools in their final year? Hahahaha.

Jae-won: Isn’t it a forced transfer or something?

Yoo Won-ho: Fuck knows. But our homeroom teacher’s face looked like shit, so maybe.

Kim Gun-woo: Ah, fuck. If someone has to come, at least let it be a pretty girl.

Jae-won: Kim Gun-woo, you’re fucking hilarious. What are you even going to do if she is? Haha.

Kim Gun-woo: I’m just saying it’d be nice, you bastard. Why are you so fucking picky first thing in the morning? Haha.

Yoo Won-ho: Hahahahaha.

 

When Eun-ho opened the group chat, there were more than seventy unread messages piled up. The little ‘1’ beside the messages he had sent earlier disappeared all at once. 

 

Apparently, that was the last time he had checked it. He roughly scrolled back through the flood of messages, but other than the news about a transfer student, it was all pointless rubbish. Whether a transfer student came or not had very little to do with Eun-ho anyway. 

 

Leaving the chatroom full of insults and laughter behind, Eun-ho returned to his list of conversations. Right at the top was Cha Do-hyeon’s name with a red notification dot beside it. The moment Eun-ho opened the chat, a photograph beneath several short messages caught his attention.

 

It was a picture taken from above of a tiny kitten with white and yellow fur. Eun-ho swallowed the sound that almost escaped him and tapped the photo. When he enlarged it with both fingers, fluffy little hairs, like dandelion fluff, filled the screen. 

 

Judging by the pattern of the floor underneath it, it was definitely Cha Do-hyeon’s house, but Eun-ho had no idea where the cat itself had come from.

 

“What the hell? Isn’t that your house?”

 

“Ah, shit. It’s fucking adorable.”

 

He kept the pale-blue chat window open and stared at it, but the ‘1’ beside his messages didn’t disappear. Do-hyeon must have been busy studying during self-study. 

 

Eun-ho enlarged the photo again for no reason, then reduced it, repeating the pointless motion. The sight of that tiny ball of fur, not even the size of a single span of his hand, sitting there trying its hardest to look like a proper cat was ridiculously cute.

 

When there still seemed to be no sign of a reply, Eun-ho switched off the screen and turned his gaze towards the window. As he watched the clouds floating higher and whiter than usual, the fluffy little head he had just seen kept flickering through his mind. He had originally planned to head straight to the PC café after school. Instead, Eun-ho decided he would go to Cha Do-hyeon’s house.

 

Rattle—

 

The sliding classroom door opened with an unnatural sound, cutting through Kim Gun-woo’s group’s quiet snickering. Everyone’s attention shifted towards the front. Behind their short-haired homeroom teacher stood a male student. It had to be the transfer student Gun-woo had said he’d seen in the staff room.

 

He was fairly small overall, with a face that looked somewhat delicate and sensitive. Eun-ho sighed quietly as he watched him standing there with both hands gripping the straps of his bag. Great. Guys like Kim Gun-woo and Seo Jae-won are going to have a fucking field day with him.

 

It was unusual for someone to transfer schools in the summer of their final year, right in the middle of university entrance preparation. Eun-ho had therefore expected someone rough-looking, probably with some story behind him. Unless it was compulsory, why would anyone transfer at a time like this? 

 

But the person standing in front of him looked quite different from what Eun-ho had imagined. Maybe appearances could be deceiving.

 

“Everyone, this is Kwon I-hyeon, who transferred here today. He’s joining us at a pretty chaotic time in senior year, so make sure you help him settle in.”

 

Their homeroom teacher offered no time for a self-introduction. The transfer student stood there, expressionless, looking straight ahead.

 

“Wheee-oo.”

 

Kim Gun-woo gave a playful whistle, making the boys beside him snicker. The teacher frowned and scanned the classroom before turning towards Eun-ho’s side.

 

“There’s an empty seat beside Yeo Eun-ho. Sit there. Back of the first row.”

 

Ah…

 

Eun-ho had deliberately asked the former occupant to leave that seat empty because he hated having someone right beside him.

 

He let out an even louder sigh.

 

Frowning faintly, Eun-ho took the bag he had dumped on the neighbouring chair and lowered it to the floor. As the transfer student walked towards him, their eyes met. The boy’s gaze was full of caution. He looked away from Eun-ho almost immediately and sat down.

 

“You all know nothing changes just because there’s a transfer student, right? There isn’t much time left until the CSAT. Study hard, all of you. Kwon I-hyeon, come and see me later.”

 

Their homeroom teacher spoke blandly and left. At once, strange, curious glances flew towards the new student from every direction. Whether he knew that the students sitting in front of him were deliberately twisting around to stare or didn’t care, I-hyeon took a book and notebook from his bag and placed them on his desk.

 

Scrrrape.

 

Kim Gun-woo loudly dragged a chair over from the right-hand side, and his group began gathering around. He approached with a deliberately swaggering posture, pretending that he was merely arranging seats, but there was no way Eun-ho couldn’t tell that he was looking for trouble with the transfer student beside him. 

 

Eun-ho’s phone vibrated inside his pocket. Watching the pathetic scene, he pulled it out and checked the message.

 

Cha Do-hyeon: It was crying in front of the house all night.

Cha Do-hyeon: I don’t think I can keep it. I’ll have to find somewhere to send it once I get the sick parts treated.

Cha Do-hyeon: Photo

 

The final message was a front-facing photograph of the kitten sitting on a beige blanket. One of its eyes was red and swollen, and it couldn’t open it properly. Judging by the fact that it had apparently spent the whole night alone, it looked as though its mother had abandoned it because it was ill. 

 

Eun-ho had no idea exactly how large a newborn kitten was supposed to be, but the fact that this one looked tiny even compared with the box bothered him.

 

He opened the internet and searched for things like kitten eye disease and cat conjunctivitis. While Eun-ho was reading, Kim Gun-woo’s group beside him finally began pestering the transfer student.

 

“Hey, where did you come from? If you transferred here, you should let us know. Look at you, sitting there saying fuck-all the second you arrive.”

 

“Who the hell transfers in their final year? Did you get forcibly transferred or something?”

 

Kim Gun-woo dragged a chair over and sat down beside him, speaking in a deliberately provocative tone. Even with the boy sitting right beside him, the transfer student continued to look ahead without answering. Gun-woo raised his voice in disbelief.

 

“Bastard, when someone talks to you, look at their face and answer. Are you deaf?”

 

“This fucker’s seriously ignoring you.”

 

“Hello? Excuse me? Can you hear me?”

 

Jae-won spoke in an exaggeratedly polite voice and snapped his fingers beside I-hyeon’s ear. Gun-woo and the others began snickering. Only then did the transfer student raise his head.

 

“Whether I transferred voluntarily or was forced to, what does it matter to you? You’re noisy. Move away.”

 

They were the first words he had spoken since entering the classroom. Eun-ho finally looked away from his phone. The transfer student’s expression was almost the same as it had been while he stood at the front. Despite being surrounded by several troublemakers, he didn’t so much as flinch. That seemed to make things even more entertaining for Eun-ho.

 

Gun-woo’s group, on the other hand, clearly felt insulted.

 

“Hey, isn’t this bastard actually fucking pretty for a guy? Putting a wig on him and just looking at his face, people would be shocked.”

 

For the first time, the transfer student frowned openly. Apparently delighted to have finally got a reaction, Won-ho joined in.

 

“Hey, if we put him in a wig and a skirt, wouldn’t it work? Just looking from behind, he’d probably fool people.”

 

“You fucking idiot, are you gay or something? Why are you getting excited about dressing some guy up?”

 

Their cackling voices grew louder.

 

The transfer student’s expression hardened further as their jokes became more openly sexual.

 

Eun-ho looked at Won-ho.

 

It was pathetic, acting like this was hilarious and making a spectacle of someone just because they were lower in the social pecking order. Won-ho seemed to notice Eun-ho staring. For a moment he faltered, then sent him a playful look as though trying to turn the whole thing back into a joke. He reached out and began running his hand over the transfer student’s hair.

 

“Look at this. This bastard’s hair is fucking soft. Maybe he’s got his chest wrapped up in bandages or something. You know, like those women pretending to be men in films.”

 

“Yoo Won-ho, listen to the level of your imagination. Go sit down and write a fucking novel.”

 

“No, seriously, touch it. He’s so fucking pale and looks like he’d snap in half. Can he even pass for a man?”

 

It was the kind of conversation that made even Eun-ho, sitting beside them, uncomfortable. Still, he didn’t particularly think it was his job to step in. Those pathetic bastards making crude jokes weren’t something that would suddenly change because Eun-ho told them to stop.

 

Besides, they were eighteen.

 

The guy in front of them ought to be able to deal with something like that himself.

 

His phone buzzed again.

 

Cha Do-hyeon: I looked it up. I think the eye might be conjunctivitis.

Cha Do-hyeon: I’ll take it to the vet after school.

Cha Do-hyeon: Come with me.

 

Eun-ho tuned out the commotion beside him and picked up his phone again to reply. Then he heard a light smack. He looked up. A pale hand was hanging in the air. The transfer student had knocked away Won-ho’s hand, which had been stroking his hair. For a moment, silence fell over the group.

 

“Wow. You’ve got more temper than you look. Hey, did you see him smack Yoo Won-ho’s hand away?”

 

“Oh, what? Transfer student’s pissed off? We’re just trying to be friendly. Why are you so sensitive?”

 

Gun-woo and Jae-won seemed even more entertained by the reaction. Won-ho, on the other hand, looked as though his pride had been wounded. His expression twisted before he could hide it. Scowling, he put his hand against the back of the transfer student’s head.

 

Thud.

 

He shoved it forward. The transfer student’s head jerked down. Won-ho lifted his hand again.

 

Thud.

 

Every time his palm struck the back of I-hyeon’s head, a dull sound echoed through the classroom. 

 

The students sitting in front began snickering and looking behind them. I-hyeon kept his back perfectly straight despite the increasingly oppressive atmosphere, staring only ahead.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that, bastard? What, are you scared? Anyone watching would think we were bullying you. Hey, relax your face.”

 

Whether he was excited by the fact that everyone in the classroom was paying attention or genuinely getting angry, Won-ho’s voice grew louder with every word. 

 

Jae-won and Gun-woo merely watched from the side with amused expressions. Eun-ho put his phone down on his desk with a tap. Crazy bastards. There’s a fucking limit to what counts as a joke.

 

He already knew guys like Seo Jae-won and Kim Gun-woo enjoyed throwing their weight around against people lower down the hierarchy. But watching them cross the line directly in front of him left a sour feeling in his stomach. 

 

As Won-ho shoved the back of I-hyeon’s head for the third time, the transfer student suddenly sprang to his feet. His hand closed around Won-ho’s wrist. Someone nearby sucked in a startled breath.

 

Still gripping Won-ho’s wrist, I-hyeon lifted his head sharply and stared sideways at him. Even though he had to look upwards because of their height difference, there wasn’t a trace of intimidation in his expression.

 

“I’m just planning to keep quiet until graduation, so could you stop paying attention to me and cooperate?”

 

His voice was completely calm, almost flat. 

 

Despite what he was saying, there was barely any rise or fall in his tone. It sounded as though he wasn’t speaking only to Won-ho, but to every student in the classroom who had been listening. Silence washed over the room. 

 

Won-ho’s face gradually turned red. Being grabbed by the wrist in front of everyone, then dismissed so casually, clearly infuriated him.

 

“Bastard, you really know how to talk, don’t you? I only messed with you because I was glad to see someone with some backbone. You think you’re going to survive here if something this small scares you?”

 

“……”

 

“What cooperation? What the fuck are you going to do if I don’t cooperate? Hey. Hey, smile. You’re supposed to laugh.”

 

Now thoroughly worked up, Won-ho began tapping I-hyeon’s forehead repeatedly with his index finger. The atmosphere in the classroom turned icy. The other two boys standing beside him kept their arms folded, laughing as though the whole thing were entertaining. 

 

The students sitting at the front whispered amongst themselves and kept glancing over, tense as the mood grew uglier.

 

Smack.

 

I-hyeon knocked Won-ho’s hand away from his forehead. Won-ho’s expression hardened instantly. Realising that things had become more serious than he expected, Eun-ho finally dropped the arm supporting his chin and sat upright. He scanned the classroom once and caught the class president staring anxiously in their direction, clearly wondering whether he ought to step in.

 

The class president looked as though he were debating whether to go and fetch the teacher. It wasn’t only him; most of the students in the room were frowning as they watched what was happening. 

 

For fuck’s sake… these bastards seriously don’t know when to stop. Eun-ho’s face twisted in irritation. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. His chair scraped harshly across the floor, and he could feel everyone’s attention turn towards him.

 

“Hey, Yoo Won-ho. Stop it.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I said stop. Do you think you lot are the only people in this classroom?”

 

“No, fuck… You saw that bastard acting rude too.”

 

Won-ho, who had been glaring viciously at the transfer student, widened his eyes at Eun-ho’s sudden interruption. Even then, he continued glaring at I-hyeon, stubbornly determined to have the last word. Apparently, his pride had been wounded. Watching him made a sour, directionless disgust rise inside Eun-ho.

 

The bastard had thought nothing of putting a brand-new transfer student on display in front of an entire class, smacking him around the head and making sexual jokes about him. Yet the instant the situation turned against him, he was furious. 

 

Won-ho, who had been getting carried away; Gun-woo, who had laughed beside him; and Eun-ho himself, who had sat there doing nothing. They were all on the same pathetic level.

 

“You’re the rude bastard here. You keep touching his head and making sexual jokes about him, and what, you expect him to smile and greet you happily?”

 

Eun-ho began copying exactly what Won-ho had been doing moments earlier. Looking down into his eyes, he extended only his index finger and repeatedly tapped Won-ho’s forehead. 

 

The classroom fell quiet in a completely different way from before. Whether from anger or humiliation, Won-ho’s face flushed bright red. Watching him react in the complete opposite way now that he was on the receiving end, Eun-ho grimaced.

 

If you were going to act tough, then at least keep acting tough no matter who you were dealing with. Seeing someone only stretch their legs when they knew there was room to do it pissed him off.

 

“Won-ho. You’re supposed to smile.”

 

Apparently, word had already spread either that their new transfer student was unusually pretty or that Yoo Won-ho and his friends were picking on him, because the corridor and both classroom doors had become crowded with students peering inside. Won-ho clenched both fists, clearly humiliated at being embarrassed in front of so many people.

 

“Hey, hey. Eun-ho, what are you doing? Won-ho, you stop too.”

 

“Yeah, Yoo Won-ho. You went too far this time, asshole.”

 

Gun-woo and Jae-won hurried between Eun-ho and Won-ho, apparently trying to calm the increasingly hostile atmosphere. Eun-ho lowered his hand and stood there looking down at Won-ho. Won-ho muttered a curse under his breath, shoved through the crowd gathered around the back door and stormed out. 

 

Watching him rage over the humiliation he had suffered while apparently forgetting everything he had just done himself irritated Eun-ho all over again.

 

He frowned, regretting that he had ever kept people like that around him. Gun-woo and Jae-won seemed to follow Won-ho at first, calling his name once or twice from the corridor, but they soon returned.

 

“Eun-ho, just let it go. Yoo Won-ho never knows when enough is enough, you know?”

 

“What the hell is there for me to let go?”

 

Eun-ho muttered irritably and sat back down. He slowly pulled out his phone to check his messages, only for his eyes to meet the transfer student’s. I-hyeon was still looking at him with that same guarded expression.

 

“Hey, transfer student. You know we were only messing around, right?”

 

“If it upset you, sorry. Don’t stay angry.”

 

“Oi, what are you lot looking at? Show’s over. Fuck off.”

 

Gun-woo and Jae-won tossed out apologies that barely sounded like apologies at all.

 

I-hyeon gave the faintest nod.

 

The two returned to their seats, shouting unnecessarily at the students gathered in the corridor as they went.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Eun-ho had gone back to resting his chin on one hand and looking out of the window when a quiet voice came from beside him. It was the same low, steady voice he had heard earlier. 

 

Eun-ho had only stepped in because watching Gun-woo’s group cross the line had pissed him off, but being thanked suddenly made him feel as though he had acted out of some ridiculous sense of justice. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his head.

 

“Those bastards are always like that. Just don’t react to them.”

 

Embarrassed for no good reason, Eun-ho said something he didn’t really mean. He could feel I-hyeon looking at him from beside him but pretended not to notice. If he turned his head, he felt certain he would meet those straightforward eyes again. 

 

Instead, Eun-ho opened his phone and checked whether Cha Do-hyeon had replied. The ‘1’ beside the final message still hadn’t disappeared.

 

“What’s with the atmosphere here? Let’s get some air circulating. Shall we open the windows?”

 

The English teacher had entered without anyone noticing and quickly brought the unsettled classroom back under control. 

 

Eun-ho reached out and pushed the window open. A gust carrying the muggy warmth of early summer suddenly swept into the classroom, making the pale jade curtains billow dramatically. Eun-ho lowered his head onto his desk and closed his eyes.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

“Hey, Eun-ho. Eun-ho, aren’t you getting up? We’re going to eat without you.”

 

Eun-ho vaguely remembered covering the sunlight falling directly across his face with his textbook and closing his eyes sometime near the beginning of third period. Apparently it was lunchtime already. 

 

Still lying down, Eun-ho waved one hand vaguely at the friends calling him until they gave up. Their noisy voices gradually disappeared, leaving the classroom quiet.

 

Unfortunately, he was already awake. He lowered the book from his face and rubbed both hands roughly over it, only then noticing the figure asleep on the desk beside him. Oh, right. We got a transfer student today. It still felt strange having somebody occupying the seat next to him.

 

Eun-ho scratched his hair absent-mindedly. Everyone except the two of them seemed to have gone for lunch, because the classroom was empty. Eun-ho stretched dramatically in his chair and wondered whether he should wake the transfer student. 

 

Their homeroom teacher probably hadn’t bothered to explain where the cafeteria was, and their useless class president and vice-president had already abandoned him. Which meant Eun-ho was the only one left. 

 

Yawning lazily, he placed one hand on I-hyeon’s narrow shoulder. The transfer student jolted awake.

 

“Ah, sorry.”

 

Startled, Eun-ho immediately drew his hand back. The sharpness in I-hyeon’s eyes softened. Feeling awkward for some reason, Eun-ho scratched his side and walked towards the back door. He opened it, then looked behind him.

 

The transfer student was still sitting there staring at him. What is he, a stray kitten or something? Eun-ho raised one eyebrow.

 

“Hey. Come on. Let’s go eat.”

 

He left the door open and started walking. As he headed towards the cafeteria, trying to remember what was on today’s menu, he heard quick footsteps behind him. The transfer student caught up and began walking beside him. Eun-ho slowed his own pace slightly.

 

“What did you say your name was again?”

 

“Kwon I-hyeon.”

 

It was a careless question followed by an equally careless answer.

 

“Kwon I-hyeon…”

 

Eun-ho murmured the name while checking his phone. Lunch had started ages ago, and Cha Do-hyeon still hadn’t replied. 

 

When they entered the cafeteria with their trays, Eun-ho spotted Kim Gun-woo waving at him from a table in the corner. Yoo Won-ho, who was sitting beside him, saw Eun-ho and I-hyeon together and immediately turned his head away.

 

Eun-ho led I-hyeon to an empty table near the front instead.

 

“Don’t you have to eat with them?”

 

Eun-ho, who had been internally complaining about how awful the lunch looked, lifted his head.

 

“If you’re not eating with them because of me, you don’t have to worry.”

 

Talk about self-consciousness.

 

Sure, Eun-ho had been concerned when he saw I-hyeon sleeping there by himself without eating, but it wasn’t as though he had woken him out of some great act of kindness. 

 

When Eun-ho stared at him without answering, I-hyeon looked away and picked up his chopsticks. Why is a guy so damn meek? How’s he supposed to survive like that? 

 

Eun-ho clicked his tongue silently and picked up his own chopsticks.

 

“Still. Thanks.”

 

Being thanked yet again made Eun-ho feel embarrassingly like some defender of justice. 

 

He poked around at the side dishes. Thankfully, I-hyeon didn’t say anything else and began eating.

 

“So why did you transfer?”

 

Eun-ho broke the silence first.

 

Sitting opposite each other and eating without speaking was becoming painfully awkward. He noticed I-hyeon put down his spoon and looked at him, though Eun-ho kept his own gaze fixed on his tray.

 

“Ah, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want—”

 

“I’m gay.”

 

Eun-ho froze with a side dish halfway to his mouth. That was nowhere near the answer he had expected. Slowly, he raised his head and met I-hyeon’s eyes.

 

Is he joking?

 

Unable to hide his surprise, Eun-ho searched his face, but I-hyeon looked exactly as calm as when they had first met. Eun-ho couldn’t understand why someone he had known for less than half a day was suddenly telling him this.

 

“Ah… okay?”

 

He wasn’t sure what reaction he was supposed to give, so he deliberately answered as casually as possible. Something subtle crossed I-hyeon’s expression.

 

“At my old school, some kids found out. The bullying got worse. Things became bigger than anyone expected, and the school made it pretty obvious they’d rather I transferred.”

 

“You went to a fucking useless school.”

 

Apparently every school had at least one Yoo Won-ho. Eun-ho shook his head inwardly while trying to pick a piece of tofu out of his soup with his chopsticks. 

 

He didn’t need to have seen it himself to know exactly what had happened. The school had probably been so busy trying to make the whole incident disappear that they hadn’t cared who the victim was or who was responsible.

 

That was the problem with the conservative school system. It taught powerless victims before they were even adults that nobody would protect them. How could anyone expect people to grow up believing in justice after that? Korean society still had a long way to go.

 

When Eun-ho didn’t say anything else, I-hyeon put down his spoon again. Eun-ho glanced at him, wondering whether he had said something wrong, but he couldn’t tell whether the expression on I-hyeon’s face was anger or confusion.

 

“I said I like men.”

 

“Ah… that must’ve been hard?”

 

Eun-ho raised the end of his sentence uncertainly, wondering if that was the response I-hyeon wanted. I-hyeon gave him a strange look.

 

“You seriously don’t care?”

 

“What does you liking men have to do with me?”

 

Eun-ho’s irritation began leaking into his voice. I-hyeon kept repeating himself as though Eun-ho was supposed to say something else, but nobody had ever taught Eun-ho the correct response when someone he had known for four hours suddenly came out to him.

 

“Why does what I think matter? Do you like me?”

 

He said it bluntly, without bothering to hide his irritation. For the first time, I-hyeon looked openly dumbfounded. That only made Eun-ho feel embarrassed despite being the one who had snapped. He awkwardly began stabbing at his rice.

 

“I suppose what you think doesn’t matter.” 

 

I-hyeon looked away as he muttered under his breath. Then he added, “Most people don’t react like that.”

 

The calm way he said it bothered Eun-ho more than he wanted to admit. Still, he decided that I-hyeon had probably been through enough and kept his mouth shut. Instead, Eun-ho picked up a piece of glazed tofu from his own tray and placed it on I-hyeon’s rice.

 

“Eat that and grow taller.”

 

I-hyeon looked at the reddish piece of tofu sitting on his white rice and gave a small laugh. Then he lifted his spoon and quietly resumed eating. Eun-ho stopped watching his expression and returned his attention to his own tray. There really wasn’t anything worth eating today.

 

The seasoned fried tofu had an unpleasantly chewy texture. If they were going to fry something, why couldn’t they fry chicken? He should have taken Kwon I-hyeon to the convenience shop instead. Eun-ho grumbled under his breath and continued poking irritably through the side dishes.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

Still unsatisfied after the miserable school lunch, Eun-ho had taken I-hyeon to the school shop. Partly to show the friendless transfer student where it was, partly because Eun-ho still had room for bread and milk.

 

Several birds with one stone.

 

The sunshine had become more muggy than warm, so they chose to walk through the annex corridor. Up ahead, Eun-ho spotted Cha Do-hyeon talking to someone. What the hell? 

 

That bastard hasn’t answered me all day, and this is what he’s doing?

 

Eun-ho raised one eyebrow.

 

“Hey, Cha Do-hyeon!”

 

Do-hyeon turned.

 

Eun-ho took a large bite of his ice lolly and raised one hand. The black plastic bag looped loosely around his wrist rustled against his arm. Do-hyeon said something to the tall boy standing in front of him. The boy bowed, then headed off in the opposite direction.

 

“What are you doing here during lunch?”

 

The annex mainly contained tiered and multipurpose meeting rooms, so nobody came here without a reason. Do-hyeon gestured towards the closed door beside him.

 

“Preparing for tomorrow’s forum.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Eun-ho’s uninterested answer made it perfectly obvious he hadn’t really cared. Do-hyeon let out a dry laugh. Then his eyes dropped to the rustling plastic bag.

 

“You went to the shop?”

 

“Yeah. Lunch was crap today. Haven’t you eaten?”

 

“I didn’t have time. What time is it?”

 

Only then did Do-hyeon take his phone out of his back pocket and begin checking it. So that’s why he hasn’t answered all day. Eun-ho crunched the last of his ice lolly. Apparently they had managed to invite a famous film director, which meant Do-hyeon had plenty to organise as president.

 

Even his normally immaculate uniform looked slightly dishevelled. Feeling a little sorry for the student council president working so hard he hadn’t even eaten, Eun-ho took a cream bun and a carton of milk from his bag and held them out. Only a packet of jelly remained inside, leaving the plastic bag hanging limply from his wrist.

 

“Oi. Being president isn’t going to feed you. Stop taking it so seriously.”

 

Do-hyeon, who had been staring at his phone, lifted his head and looked at what Eun-ho was offering. He seemed puzzled.

 

“Ah. You don’t drink milk.”

 

Eun-ho started putting the carton back in the bag, but Do-hyeon stopped his hand.

 

“I’ll drink it.”

 

A hand almost as cold as the carton covered Eun-ho’s. Eun-ho stared at him incredulously.

 

“You won’t even eat cereal because you say milk smells disgusting. What are you talking about?”

 

“I’ll drink this.”

 

“Strawberry milk?”

 

Do-hyeon finally seemed to notice the writing on the carton and frowned. That was hardly surprising. He normally refused anything sweet too. He must be starving.

 

Eun-ho clicked his tongue and twisted his wrist, finally freeing his hand from beneath Do-hyeon’s. He waved the bread and milk once in front of him. Do-hyeon smiled faintly and held out his hand. Eun-ho dropped both into it and took another bite of his ice lolly. A sweet-and-sour orange flavour spread through his mouth.

 

“Hey, I looked it up earlier. That thing with the kitten’s eye looks like conjunctivitis. Apparently it clears up pretty quickly if you use medicine.”

 

Do-hyeon scratched his eyebrow awkwardly. Apparently he was busy after school too. 

 

Eun-ho remembered the kitten sitting curled up with its swollen eye. Thinking of how tiny it was made him feel they should get it checked quickly.

 

“Do you have to stay at school tonight too? I can take it myself.”

 

Eun-ho said it casually, but Do-hyeon didn’t look pleased.

 

“I was only going to the PC café after school anyway. I’ll go straight to your place, pick it up and take it to the vet.”

 

“I think I’ll finish around eight. I’ll message you. We can go together.”

 

“I’ll go with him.”

 

A strange voice cut in from the right before Do-hyeon had even finished speaking. Eun-ho had completely forgotten the transfer student was there. Do-hyeon’s eyes, which had remained fixed on Eun-ho’s face, slowly moved sideways.

 

“We used to have a cat at home. It’ll be hard for you to take it alone.”

 

Eun-ho brightened immediately. That was a relief. He liked animals, but he had never actually owned one or handled one himself. In truth, he had been wondering how he was supposed to transport the kitten.

 

“Really? Perfect. We can go together after school.”

 

As Eun-ho spoke more cheerfully, I-hyeon suddenly became visibly tense and stepped slightly closer to his side. Eun-ho followed his wary gaze. Cha Do-hyeon was staring at him with a strange expression. Do-hyeon smiled coldly.

 

“I haven’t seen you before.”

 

“Oh. He transferred into our class. Say hello. This is my friend, Cha Do-hyeon.”

 

Eun-ho scratched the back of his neck when he realised he had completely forgotten to introduce I-hyeon. He was beginning to feel slightly guilty for having left him standing there while the two of them talked. Then he noticed I-hyeon looking at Do-hyeon with an unusually sharp expression. 

 

It was almost the same hostility he had shown Yoo Won-ho earlier that morning. Eun-ho blinked in surprise.

 

“Hi.”

 

I-hyeon greeted him. Do-hyeon didn’t answer. He looked down at him. He disliked the way I-hyeon glared at him defensively while still obediently greeting him because Eun-ho had told him to. More than that, the way he had moved one step closer to Eun-ho while bristling at Do-hyeon irritated him intensely.

 

Do-hyeon was already annoyed by Eun-ho referring to him merely as a friend. Eun-ho also called rubbish like Kim Gun-woo and Seo Jae-won his friends. Being placed on the same level as them made something inside Do-hyeon turn cold. And Eun-ho’s strange protectiveness towards this transfer student only made the irritation grow.

 

“A senior transferring this close to the end of first term? Doesn’t take much imagination to guess why.”

 

The sharpness of Do-hyeon’s words made Eun-ho look startled. I-hyeon didn’t seem bothered. He stayed close beside Eun-ho and continued staring at Do-hyeon. Do-hyeon met his eyes directly.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho. Isn’t it about time you started being more selective about who you call your friends?”

 

I-hyeon’s eyes sharpened further. Do-hyeon stared at him coldly, then turned towards Eun-ho, whose expression now plainly said, What the fuck? Without another word, he turned and walked away. Eun-ho stared after him, dumbfounded by the sudden change in attitude.

 

“What the fuck did that bastard eat? Why is he suddenly acting like that right in front of someone?”

 

His confusion lasted only a moment. 

 

Remembering Do-hyeon’s icy stare made irritation flare inside him. Eun-ho gave a disbelieving laugh as he watched him disappear down the corridor.

 

“Crazy bastard. I gave you the bread I bought for myself, and this is how you act? Hey!”

 

Eun-ho shouted at his back, but Do-hyeon didn’t even acknowledge him before leaving the annex. 

 

The whole confrontation had swept through like a sudden storm. No matter how Eun-ho thought about it, he couldn’t make sense of it. He seemed perfectly fine five seconds ago.

 

What the hell was that?

 

Rabies?

 

Eun-ho glared at the corridor where Do-hyeon had disappeared.

 

“Who the hell does he think he is, acting like my parent?”

 

“You’re close?”

 

“Ah, yeah. Sorry. We grew up together. He can be a rude bastard sometimes.”

 

I-hyeon remembered Do-hyeon’s eyes. They had reminded him of the eyes of someone who had stood back watching while he was bullied at his previous school. He had thought it would be difficult to see that sort of gaze again—the gaze of an apex predator sitting comfortably at the very top, watching everything below.

 

I-hyeon slowly rubbed the goosebumps on his arm and looked at Eun-ho. Eun-ho was chewing viciously on his ice-lolly stick as though it were Cha Do-hyeon himself. 

 

He seems like a decent guy. He’s going to have a hard time.

 

Watching Eun-ho huff furiously, I-hyeon repeated the names in his head.

 

Cha Do-hyeon and Yeo Eun-ho.

 

Yeo Eun-ho and Cha Do-hyeon.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

“Here.”

 

Eun-ho held out the cup in his hand. Orange juice rippled across the surface. I-hyeon was sitting cross-legged in front of a small plastic pet carrier. He accepted the cup, and the ice rattled inside while beads of condensation ran down the outside.

 

Eun-ho sat on the sofa and glanced into the carrier. The kitten, which weighed less than half a kilogram, seemed frightened by the unfamiliar place and was hiding beneath the blanket. I-hyeon took a sip of orange juice, set the cup on the table and leaned back against the bottom of the sofa.

 

He closed his eyes.

 

He looked tired.

 

Considering he had gone to his own house to collect the carrier, then to Do-hyeon’s, then to the veterinary clinic and finally to Eun-ho’s house, it was understandable.

 

“Shouldn’t we put the medicine in its eye?”

 

“It’ll come out when it’s ready. We can do it then.”

 

Unlike Eun-ho, who kept worrying, I-hyeon remained calm and steady. Remembering how naturally he had handled everything at the veterinary clinic, Eun-ho cautiously asked,

 

“Did you have a cat?”

 

“My sister did.”

 

“Don’t you live with your sister?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What? Then you had a cat too. Why are you drawing a line like that?”

 

Eun-ho tilted his head at the strange answer. Just then, the kitten cautiously peeked out from beneath the blanket. 

 

The vet had estimated it was around three months old. Apparently that was an age when kittens were particularly playful, and sure enough, it began sniffing its surroundings like a puppy and exploring.

 

Eun-ho drank from his cup and pulled a toy out of the shopping bag I-hyeon had brought. Watching him, I-hyeon continued.

 

“We just lived in the same house. My sister fed it, brushed it and played with it. I only ever watched.”

 

“Still sounds great. Neither Cha Do-hyeon nor I have ever had a pet. How old is it?”

 

“It died last year.” Eun-ho almost choked. He fought down his cough and looked cautiously at I-hyeon. Again, that completely expressionless face.

 

“Why the hell do you say things like that so casually?”

 

“It was old and had been sick in different places for a while. Then one day it suddenly started struggling to breathe right in front of me. My sister happened to be out, so I picked it up and ran straight to the hospital. That was the last time.”

 

I-hyeon took the white fluffy wand toy from Eun-ho’s hand and waved it gently in front of the kitten. Its pupils widened dramatically as its head flicked back and forth following the toy.

 

Eun-ho stared at I-hyeon oddly.

 

Coming out unexpectedly.

 

Talking about his dead cat.

 

Bringing a transfer student he had met that very morning into his house. And now this tiny kitten was wriggling around in front of them. It had been an exhausting and chaotic day, but strangely enough, he didn’t dislike it.

 

“You tell me all sorts of things considering we only met today.”

 

I-hyeon didn’t answer. He continued waving the toy. The kitten that had previously refused to show its face had crawled completely out from under the blanket and was now stretching its round little paws towards the white tuft. Eventually, it seemed to decide lying down wasn’t enough.

 

It came all the way out of the carrier and began bouncing around as though it were a tiger. Watching the kitten leap with its tiny legs spread wide, Eun-ho gradually slid down from the sofa and sat beside I-hyeon.

 

I-hyeon handed him the toy.

 

Eun-ho held it still.

 

The kitten approached on its own and latched onto it. It bit and tugged at the fluffy wand almost as large as its body, wrapped both paws around it and eventually rolled right over. 

 

Unable to stop smiling, Eun-ho began moving the toy from side to side. The kitten throwing its entire body after every tiny movement of his hand was fascinating.

 

And ridiculously cute. Eventually it caught the wand and began licking the fluffy end.

 

Eun-ho looked alarmed.

 

“Hey. Is it trying to eat this?”

 

“It’s fine. It’s grooming it. That toy belonged to our cat, so the smell probably remains.”

 

Eun-ho knew cats licked themselves and other cats to show affection, but he hadn’t realised they did it so enthusiastically.

 

He lifted the now-damp toy. The kitten, apparently exhausted from licking and biting it, had flattened itself against the floor.

 

“Touch it.”

 

At I-hyeon’s suggestion, Eun-ho slowly raised his hand. He hesitated just above the kitten’s tiny body. Then he suddenly stood up and hurried to the sink. After washing his hands, he returned and wiped them roughly against his thighs.

 

The thin grey fabric of his summer uniform trousers darkened in patches. Eun-ho slowly rested his hand against the kitten’s back. Its soft, fluffy fur clung to the remaining moisture on his fingers. The kitten was warmer and softer than he had imagined.

 

Eun-ho bit his lip and clenched his other fist. When he carefully stroked the fur, the kitten began to make a tiny rumbling sound. The vibration travelled through its rising and falling back into Eun-ho’s hand. Something beneath his sternum tickled.

 

Eun-ho thought that if he had been holding a block of tofu in his other hand, he probably would have crushed it completely.

 

Bzzzt—

 

A sudden vibration shattered the silence. 

 

Eun-ho jerked his hand away from the kitten. He had only moved because he was startled, but apparently the kitten was even more frightened. Its eyes flew wide, and its tail puffed up.

 

Alarmed by the sharp reaction, Eun-ho froze with one hand suspended in the air. His phone continued vibrating in his pocket, but he didn’t move. I-hyeon slowly stroked the kitten between the ears. Its tense posture gradually softened, and its round pupils narrowed vertically.

 

Eun-ho stared at the change in fascination before finally taking his phone out.

 

Cha Do-hyeon was calling.

 

[Where are you? Why did you take so long to answer?]

 

Do-hyeon launched straight into the question before Eun-ho had even managed to say hello. 

 

This bastard needs to relearn basic manners before he worries about calculus. And it wasn’t as though Eun-ho spent every waking second clutching his phone. Was he not allowed to answer a call late?

 

Eun-ho raised one eyebrow.

 

“Am I some customer-service hotline? I’m allowed to answer late.” Eun-ho snapped, but Do-hyeon ignored him.

 

[Where are you?]

 

“Jesus, you lunatic. I brought the kitten to my place. There was nobody at yours, and I felt bad leaving it there alone.”

 

[Ah… What did the vet say?]

 

His voice sounded oddly relieved now, completely unlike when he had demanded Eun-ho’s location. Was he really that worried about the kitten? He didn’t seem it. Eun-ho looked suspiciously at the phone while stroking the cat.

 

“It’s fine. They said the eye should clear up within a week with medicine, and its weight is okay too. Ah, wait. Bathroom? Over there.”

 

I-hyeon silently mouthed ‘bathroom’ and stood. Eun-ho moved the phone away from his ear and nodded towards the kitchen-side door.

 

“About two or three months old.”

 

[You’re still with him?]

 

Eun-ho had barely put the phone back to his ear when Do-hyeon interrupted. He failed to notice the slight chill entering Do-hyeon’s voice and instead found himself thinking about his terrible phone manners again.

 

“What, he came all the way to the vet with me, and you expect me just to send him away? You’ve been cold-hearted all day.”

 

[What are the two of you doing there?]

 

“What do you think we’re doing? We were going to order dinner.”

 

What exactly did Do-hyeon imagine two high school boys would do at home with a kitten between them?

 

It was a ridiculous question.

 

Eun-ho waited for an answer.

 

Silence.

 

Wondering if the call had disconnected, he checked the screen.

 

01:48.

01:49.

 

The timer was still moving.

 

“What? Why aren’t you answering? You want to come too?”

 

“Hello?”

 

[I’m coming. Wait there.]

 

Do-hyeon ended the call without waiting for Eun-ho’s response. Eun-ho stared at the screen, bewildered. The bastard truly had declared war on basic etiquette. Thinking of all the poor first- and second-year students who worshipped him as their student council president almost made Eun-ho’s heart ache for them.

 

He shook his head.

 

Both of Cha Do-hyeon’s parents had been genuinely kind, respectable people. How had someone like him come out of that family? Had he been hit somewhere important during taekwondo? Or had too much studying finally scrambled his brain?

 

Remembering Do-hyeon’s parents and older sister one after another, Eun-ho decided it was one of the great mysteries of the world. I-hyeon came out of the bathroom and saw Eun-ho toss his phone aside.

 

“That guy from earlier?”

 

“Yeah. Cha Do-hyeon. He says he’s coming over for dinner. Let’s make him pay.”

 

Eun-ho spoke casually, then suddenly remembered how Do-hyeon had behaved in the annex and quickly checked I-hyeon’s expression. Sure enough, the second he heard Do-hyeon’s name, I-hyeon frowned. Should I call him back and tell him not to come?

 

Eun-ho bit his lip.

 

Why did that bastard have to act like such a dick to someone he’d literally just met? He scratched the back of his head irritably and sat beside the kitten again.

 

“You’re really close to him?”

 

“Well, yeah. I’ve known him since we were born. He’s basically family.”

 

Eun-ho answered indifferently while fiddling with the sleeping kitten’s tail and front paw.

I-hyeon quietly watched him. Then he remembered Do-hyeon’s expression earlier.

 

Clear hostility.

 

Wariness.

 

That certainly wasn’t how someone looked at family. The kitten became irritated by Eun-ho’s teasing, flicked its tail sharply against the floor and woke up. Feeling guilty, Eun-ho stroked its head. The kitten, thoroughly annoyed now, grabbed Eun-ho’s finger, pulled it into its mouth and began biting.

 

It hurt more than expected because the kitten didn’t yet know how to control its strength, but Eun-ho thought the sight of it chewing his finger was adorable, so he let it.

 

“Don’t keep giving it your fingers. It’ll turn into a habit.”

 

I-hyeon lifted the kitten away and held it securely between his legs. Then he gently opened its eye and administered the drops. Apparently, the cold medicine felt strange, because the kitten cried as though the entire world had ended.

 

I-hyeon remained firm.

 

“What are you going to call it?”

 

“Name?”

 

Eun-ho remembered that at the veterinary clinic he hadn’t been able to give them one and had registered it as Cat.

 

He thought hard.

 

“It’s yellow, so… Cheese?”

 

I-hyeon frowned and looked up.

 

Sure, Eun-ho knew it wasn’t exactly inspired, but did he really have to look that disgusted? He hadn’t seemed so cold-hearted before. 

 

Pouting slightly, Eun-ho looked at the kitten. It had curled itself into a tiny ball beneath the sunlit window. The reddish evening light spread across its pale yellow-and-white striped fur, making it glow gold.

 

Walnut.

 

Butter.

 

Scorched rice.

 

Everything he thought of was yellow food. Eun-ho sighed at his own hopeless naming ability.

 

“Forget it. Cha Do-hyeon found it so that he can pick the name.”

 

He lay down beside the kitten and toyed with the damp wand. The kitten beside him had its eyes closed and was diligently licking one round paw before rubbing it over its face. 

 

Sunlight filtered through the fluffy fur, creating tiny pointed shadows. Eun-ho reached out and rubbed between its brows.

 

It was peaceful.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

When the doorbell rang, Eun-ho opened the front door and immediately found the neatly buttoned collar of a uniform shirt right in front of his face. He instinctively stepped backwards because Do-hyeon was standing so close. The moment Eun-ho looked up, he met an extraordinarily cold expression. Do-hyeon looked exhausted and irritated all at once.

 

His eyes quickly travelled over Eun-ho from head to toe. Then he sighed, rubbed a hand over his face and stepped inside.

 

“Did somebody beat you up on the way here? Why do you look like that?” Do-hyeon said nothing as he took off his trainers.

 

Then his movements stopped.

 

He stared down at I-hyeon’s shoes with obvious displeasure. Apparently, there were infinite different ways for Cha Do-hyeon to act like a lunatic. Eun-ho wanted to complain, but remembered exactly what happened when you provoked Do-hyeon in a bad mood and forced himself to remain calm.

 

“The kitten’s over there. They said it isn’t badly sick. Fuck, it’s seriously adorable.”

 

As they entered the living room, the kitten that had been playing with I-hyeon immediately scrambled into its carrier. I-hyeon’s stiff gaze moved from Eun-ho to Do-hyeon.

 

“See? Animals can sense evil. It was playing happily until you walked in, then immediately hid.”

 

Even Eun-ho’s attempt to lighten the atmosphere did nothing to improve Do-hyeon’s expression. Did something actually happen to him?

 

Eun-ho quickly looked him over. A grey-brown leather bag slung over one shoulder. 

 

Summer shirt neatly buttoned all the way to the throat.

 

Straight uniform trousers.

 

Plain white socks.

 

Nothing looked particularly different from usual. His mouth being set in such a hard line was less common, but considering he was juggling studying and student council work, it would have been stranger if he were walking around grinning. Still, there was no reason for his eyes to look quite that vicious. Afraid another clash might happen, Eun-ho stood awkwardly beside the dining table and let his eyes dart between the two of them.

 

Do-hyeon didn’t say anything to I-hyeon. He put his bag beside the sofa and sat down. At least he wasn’t openly growling at him like before. I-hyeon glanced at Do-hyeon once, then silently continued waving a toy towards the hidden kitten.

 

Neither was openly glaring anymore, but the complete lack of greeting between them made their mutual dislike obvious. I-hyeon’s hostility made sense after the way Do-hyeon had spoken to him earlier. What Eun-ho couldn’t understand was why Do-hyeon was behaving like this in the first place. The guy was practically an expert at maintaining appearances.

 

Why was Kwon I-hyeon the only person he acted this way towards?

 

“Cold water or room temperature?”

 

“Cold.”

 

Eun-ho took a mug from the kitchen and filled it with ice. The clinking echoed through the house. A sharp, awkward silence hung over the living room. Eun-ho poured bottled water into the pale-blue mug and handed it to Do-hyeon.

 

Apparently thirsty, Do-hyeon drank deeply before putting the mug down. Beside it was the orange juice I-hyeon had left unfinished. Condensation had formed a puddle around the glass. Eun-ho slid the cup aside and wiped the table with a tissue.

 

The transparent orange glass and the blue mug sat side by side. The kitten cautiously crept out again and flopped down in front of I-hyeon. When I-hyeon stroked its back, it stretched happily and rolled across the floor. Maybe there really was something different about the touch of someone who had lived with a cat before.

 

“Eye drops morning, afternoon and night. Three times a day. Is there anyone at your house who can take care of it?”

 

There was no subject, but Do-hyeon knew the question was directed at him. He frowned slightly. Not because I-hyeon was speaking without even looking at him, but because of what he had said. Do-hyeon had assumed he could take the kitten to the vet and feed it. Eun-ho himself had only learned today that it would need medicine at specific times as well as tablets. That would be difficult for Do-hyeon, who lived alone and often returned home late.

 

“You said you were only planning to treat it and then find somewhere to adopt it. If you’re okay with it, I’ll take it.”

 

For the first time, Do-hyeon looked directly at I-hyeon.

 

“My older sister struggled after our cat died. She works freelance and stays home most of the day, so our place would probably be better for it.”

 

Eun-ho’s eyes widened.

 

Then he smiled faintly.

 

That sounded perfect.

 

He looked towards Do-hyeon, expecting him to agree. Instead, Do-hyeon looked distinctly unhappy. When no answer came, I-hyeon finally lifted his head. The silent pressure of both their gazes made Do-hyeon clench his molars.

 

A muscle in his jaw rose and settled again. With four eyes fixed on him, Do-hyeon had to make a conscious effort to calm the irritation bubbling inside him. He didn’t need to think twice to know this was a good solution. If anything, he should be grateful to I-hyeon.

 

Do-hyeon had brought the kitten home without properly researching what it needed, even though he wasn’t in a position to take responsibility for it. This was his own mistake. And yet he couldn’t stop feeling displeased. He had always intended to treat it and find it another home. All that had changed was the timing. Yet somehow it felt as though something belonging to him had been taken away—a childish sense of possession.

 

He had no idea how Eun-ho and I-hyeon had become so close after knowing each other for barely a day. Seeing them sitting side by side with the kitten between them made irritation settle inside him layer by layer. Do-hyeon forced it down.

 

“Then I’ll leave it with you.”

 

“Sorted. Now we only need a name. We can do that later. Let’s order food.”

 

Apparently hungry, Eun-ho briskly wrapped up the conversation and opened a delivery app. While Eun-ho browsed the menu, I-hyeon checked the kitten hiding in the corner of the carrier, carefully closed the door and stood. Eun-ho looked up in confusion when he saw him lift the handle.

 

“I should go. We can eat another time.”

 

“You’re just leaving?”

 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

 

I-hyeon answered firmly, slung his bag over one arm and carried the kitten out with the other.

 

He didn’t look back.

 

Eun-ho called after him to make sure he got home safely, but received no answer.

 

“Guess it’s just us eating. What do you want?”

 

Eun-ho lay down on the floor again and began scrolling through his phone. His smooth hair spread around his head like a fan. Do-hyeon watched it for a moment. Then he picked up the bag beside him and stood.

 

“Cha Do-hyeon. Where are you going?”

 

“Home.”

 

“What? Didn’t you come here to eat?”

 

“I have to leave early tomorrow. I’m tired.”

 

Eun-ho yelled after him that they were both insane and asked what kind of bastards suddenly came over and left like that. The closing front door cut off his complaints. Do-hyeon walked quickly.

 

By the time he reached the lift hall, I-hyeon was stepping into the lift. Do-hyeon followed and pressed the door-open button. Looking towards the floor, I-hyeon saw the spotless toe of a white trainer enter his view. At the same time, a heavy scent that reminded him of damp grass moved closer.

 

That scent was one of the reasons he had been wary of Do-hyeon from the beginning. It was unusual for a high-school student to wear such a heavy woody fragrance. I-hyeon trusted his instincts more than Do-hyeon’s immaculate appearance. Cha Do-hyeon smelled like a starving predator crouched in long grass.

 

I-hyeon forced his tense shoulders to relax and looked up. He met the same cold gaze Do-hyeon had used on him earlier. Even so, I-hyeon refused to look away. Do-hyeon released the button and moved behind him.

 

[Going down.]

 

The closing lift doors reflected them like a mirror. Do-hyeon was staring down at I-hyeon through narrowed eyes. The gaze hadn’t left him since before they stepped inside.

I-hyeon spoke.

 

“Do you like Yeo Eun-ho?”

 

Before he had even finished the sentence, Do-hyeon’s gaze sharpened. It became colder than anything he had directed at I-hyeon so far. I-hyeon had seen eyes like that before.

 

Possessiveness.

 

Obsession.

 

Wariness.

 

Whenever those things tangled together inside someone, there was always a faint heat beneath the surface.

 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

 

Do-hyeon’s voice sounded perfectly ordinary. The open hostility in his eyes did not. Remembering somebody at his old school who had similarly looked at him, I-hyeon’s thoughts drifted towards round-eyed Yeo Eun-ho.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho says you’re basically family.”

 

The lift chimed as it reached the ground floor. The doors opened. Neither of them moved immediately. Without the reflective doors between them, I-hyeon could still feel Do-hyeon’s stare drilling into the back of his head. He did not turn around.

 

Meow.

 

A tiny cry came from the carrier. I-hyeon tightened his grip on the handle and stepped forward.

 

“Hey.”

 

He had taken about four steps when Do-hyeon’s hard voice came from behind him.

I-hyeon stopped and turned.

 

Do-hyeon stood in front of the lift with his head tilted slightly, looking down at him. Coldness seemed to drip from their meeting gazes.

 

“Don’t interfere.”

 

I-hyeon merely shrugged once and turned away again. He heard no footsteps following him.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

Despite it being break time, Do-hyeon’s classroom was quiet. Most students had earphones in while working through practice books or watching online lectures on their phones. Into that atmosphere, Eun-ho confidently threw open the front door. Students immediately looked up as he shouted across the room, his uniform fluttering behind him.

 

“Hey, Cha Do-hyeon! I’m borrowing your PE kit!”

 

Of all the eyes that landed on him, Do-hyeon’s was especially sharp. The look was so chilling that Eun-ho stopped and wondered whether he had done something wrong. He quickly ran through the last few days in his head. He didn’t think he had seen Do-hyeon since taking the kitten to the vet. He had been busy practically living at Kwon I-hyeon’s house, so it had been quite a while.

 

Eun-ho smiled because he was strangely pleased to see him. Do-hyeon frowned. What the hell? Why are you scowling the second you see me?

 

Rude bastard. Eun-ho immediately erased his smile and glared back. Thinking about it, it had been roughly a week. He vaguely remembered hearing that Do-hyeon had come to his house over the weekend, but Eun-ho had been at I-hyeon’s playing with Rang-i.

 

The kitten Do-hyeon had rescued from the flower bed had been named Rang-i.

 

Family name Ho.

 

Ho Rang-i.

 

Tiger.

 

It had been I-hyeon’s eldest sister’s idea. Eun-ho had laughed when he first heard such a grand name for something so tiny, but watching the kitten courageously charge its toys made him wonder whether it was true that people and animals grew into their names. 

 

Anyway, Eun-ho couldn’t remember ever going this long without seeing Do-hyeon. Yet the vicious stare still hadn’t left his face. He looked like a damn Grim Reaper. Eun-ho gradually became irritated.

 

Apparently Do-hyeon was in a bad mood, but why the hell was he taking it out on Eun-ho? Eun-ho nearly snapped at him, then remembered he had come asking to borrow his PE kit and stopped himself. Cha Do-hyeon having a rotten personality was hardly new. Ignoring it was probably wiser. Besides, people said even normally calm students became hysterical in their final year, complaining about everything from the air-conditioning noise to dinner. Considering Do-hyeon’s natural temper, this was practically mild.

 

Looking again, he did seem slightly worn out. Maybe studying had exhausted him. Eun-ho went to the lockers at the back and opened Do-hyeon’s. Everything inside was perfectly organised. Books and notebooks stood upright, with not a single one reversed. A toothbrush, facial cleanser and other toiletries sat neatly arranged beside them.

 

Compared with Eun-ho’s locker, where textbooks and handouts were tangled together like washing in a machine, it was absurdly tidy.

 

Cold and meticulous.

 

Even his locker resembled him.

 

For no reason, Eun-ho flicked one finger against the pale-blue cleanser before taking out the neatly folded PE kit. Then he went to Do-hyeon’s desk.

 

“Right. Ji-hyeon noona’s coming back, isn’t she? Mum mentioned it. Isn’t your birthday still a while away?”

 

Cha Ji-hyeon was Do-hyeon’s much older sister. She had started an online shopping business immediately after graduating from high school, and apparently it had done well enough to allow her to expand significantly. Eun-ho didn’t know much about the details. 

 

Considering it was especially popular in Southeast Asia, though, Cha Do-hyeon probably wasn’t at risk of starving. Not that someone like him needed anyone else to earn his living.

 

Ji-hyeon spent most of the year abroad because of work and only returned to Korea occasionally. Years ago, around this time of year, their families used to take an early summer holiday together, coinciding with Do-hyeon’s birthday. After Do-hyeon’s parents died, the tradition became a simple dinner. Ji-hyeon’s business expansion happened around the same time Do-hyeon started focusing seriously on studying, so the summer holidays had naturally disappeared.

 

Still, Eun-ho sometimes missed them. He unbuttoned the few remaining fastened buttons of his summer shirt and stuffed it carelessly into Do-hyeon’s locker. After PE, he planned to return here and change straight back into his uniform. He couldn’t be bothered to make two separate trips to return the sports clothes.

 

Do-hyeon stopped writing and looked at him. When Eun-ho glared back as though asking what he was staring at, Do-hyeon lifted the blunt end of his mechanical pencil and dragged down the hem of Eun-ho’s T-shirt. Apparently it had ridden up over his back when he took off his shirt. Eun-ho scratched absently at his waist where the pencil had poked him and raised one eyebrow, suddenly feeling awkward.

 

When he pulled Do-hyeon’s sports top over his black T-shirt, a faint fabric-softener scent rose from the dry clothes.

 

“She has a big project, so she said she probably won’t make it for the actual date. She’s coming sometime this week, but I don’t know exactly when.”

 

Do-hyeon still looked displeased as he stared up at him. Eun-ho turned the empty chair in front of Do-hyeon’s desk around and sat backwards on it. Resting his folded arms on the backrest, he leaned forward until their eyes were level. Some of the irritation in Do-hyeon’s expression eased. From that position, Eun-ho took out his phone and opened his gallery.

 

A grid of photos appeared. Most of them showed a yellow-and-white kitten. Eun-ho began flipping through them while judging his own photography.

 

He looks stupid in this one.

 

Ah, this one’s backlit.

 

This one’s blurred.

 

Oh, this one’s pretty cute.

 

Trying not to smile too obviously, he selected an especially adorable video. The screen filled with a fluffy kitten face. It stared calmly into the camera for a moment before opening its mouth and moving closer. Tiny fangs smaller than Eun-ho’s little fingernail and a pink tongue filled the entire screen before everything went black.

 

The video lasted barely more than ten seconds. Eun-ho turned the screen towards Do-hyeon. Do-hyeon looked at Eun-ho with an unreadable expression, then shifted his gaze to the phone.

 

“Look at this. Fuck, isn’t he ridiculously cute? His name’s Ho Rang-i. At first I thought calling a kitten Tiger was stupid, but look at him. He’s a beast. A proper beast.”

 

Eun-ho continued talking regardless of Do-hyeon’s muted reaction. He enthusiastically described how Rang-i would come running from another room whenever he heard the bell on his toy, how he would pounce on the toy, and how, if Eun-ho pretended to offer it and then stopped moving, the kitten would nibble his hand instead. Do-hyeon rested his chin on his left hand and quietly watched him. Then he put his mechanical pencil down.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Eun-ho this excited about anything. Perhaps the last time had been in middle school, when Eun-ho had enthusiastically handled the first medal Do-hyeon ever won at a taekwondo competition. Do-hyeon had probably given him that medal afterwards. Eun-ho, who didn’t understand how much an athlete’s first competition or first medal meant, had likely shoved it somewhere at home and forgotten about it.

 

It didn’t matter.

 

Do-hyeon watched Eun-ho chatter excitedly without once looking away from his phone. There was laughter around his eyes, and his lips moved animatedly as he spoke. 

 

Something deep in Do-hyeon’s stomach tightened.

 

“Ha, look at this one too. Fuck, isn’t this adorable?”

 

“Yeah. Cute.”

 

Eun-ho continued talking, completely unaware of where Do-hyeon was actually looking. For the first time in a while, the corners of Do-hyeon’s mouth lifted into a broad smile. 

 

Warm summer air blew through the window, carrying soft pollen into the classroom. One piece caught in Do-hyeon’s hair.

 

Eun-ho noticed it when he happened to look up. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed Do-hyeon’s fringe. Then, amused by how soft it felt, he deliberately mussed his hair. Do-hyeon gave an incredulous laugh and stood, catching both Eun-ho’s arms and lifting them away.

 

Eun-ho burst out laughing.

 

Nearby students glanced at the two of them as they playfully wrestled.

 

Knock, knock.

 

The hard sound immediately drew attention towards the classroom door. Kwon I-hyeon was leaning against the open entrance. As his loosely clenched hand lowered from the doorframe, the smile disappeared from Do-hyeon’s mouth just as quickly. The warm air that had filled the classroom seemed to escape.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho. Your homeroom teacher wants you.”

 

I-hyeon looked completely unconcerned. Even though he must have known everyone was staring, he frowned as though irritated and called for Eun-ho without paying attention to anybody else.

 

“Ah, shit. They must’ve caught me skipping fifth period yesterday. Didn’t you say I went to the nurse’s office?”

 

“I did.”

 

Eun-ho easily twisted his wrists free from Do-hyeon’s grip. Do-hyeon looked at his suddenly empty hands and, without thinking, closed his fingers around the air. Nothing remained. The back of the PE shirt with Cha Do-hyeon” written across it gradually moved away. 

 

Watching Eun-ho casually roll his wrists as he approached Kwon I-hyeon, Do-hyeon lowered his arms and clenched one hand. The warmth that had filled his palms moments earlier seemed to vanish instantly. He rolled his tongue slowly inside his mouth.

 

When Eun-ho reached I-hyeon, he draped one arm across his shoulders. I-hyeon irritably pulled it down. Eun-ho, in an unusually good mood, refused to give up. Grinning, he slung his arm over him again and leaned his weight onto him.

I-hyeon stumbled.

 

Watching navy sportswear and a white shirt tangle together, Do-hyeon turned his head away. Green leaves glittered beyond the open window.

 

“Hey, Cha Do-hyeon! I’ll bring your PE kit back later!” Eun-ho called over his shoulder.

 

I-hyeon’s gaze followed towards Do-hyeon. Do-hyeon didn’t look at Eun-ho at all. He simply stared directly into Kwon I-hyeon’s eyes. That indifferent gaze still seemed sharply wary of him.

 

There was no warmth in I-hyeon’s unsmiling face. For a moment, Do-hyeon imagined one corner of I-hyeon’s mouth curling into a mocking smile. There was no actual smile anywhere on his face. Yet Do-hyeon could picture it vividly—the transfer student smirking at him before walking away with Yeo Eun-ho.

 

Do-hyeon shut his eyes.

 

Laughter.

 

Someone playing music through a phone speaker. The low voices of boys whose voices had already broken. All the sounds in the classroom blended together, then faded. As though he had submerged beneath water, everything became distant.

 

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

 

His heartbeat pulsed beneath his jaw and travelled upwards beside his ears. A light tingling spread into his hands and feet. His mouth became painfully dry. Do-hyeon remained still and breathed through the unfamiliar anxiety. Then he drew in one deep breath and opened his eyes. The room brightened, and every sound rushed back at once. Nobody stood at the classroom door anymore.

 

A girl wandered inside in slippers and pushed the door shut with her foot. Do-hyeon turned towards the window. Pale summer sunlight shone without warmth. He picked up his mechanical pencil again.

 

He hadn’t even realised how tightly he had been clenching his teeth until his jaw began to ache.

 

━━━━ ✦ ━━━━

 

Click.

 

Do-hyeon switched on his bedroom light. At the same time, he tossed Eun-ho’s summer uniform shirt and his bag onto the bed. He spun his desk chair around and dropped back into it. The backrest tilted with a strange creak.

 

Do-hyeon stretched his legs out and rested them on the bed. His socks brushed against the thin uniform fabric with a faint rustle. He leaned his head backwards and closed his eyes. White light shimmered behind his eyelids.

 

The ceiling light was too bright even through them. Opening his eyes again, Do-hyeon stared at one spot on the white wallpaper and tried to calm the anger simmering inside him. The longer he sat there, the more the blocked feeling beneath his sternum seemed to rise.

 

His chest tightened.

 

Even breathing felt heavy.

 

He had been like this since lunch.

 

He could barely remember how he had sat through the afternoon lessons. Without turning around, Do-hyeon reached into his desk drawer and felt around inside. His hand found a small box wrapped in plastic. He pulled it out and shook it once.

 

Something tapped inside with an absurdly light sound. When he looked, only one thin white cigarette remained. Frowning, Do-hyeon took the last cigarette, placed it between his lips and tossed the empty packet back into the drawer. He leaned his head backwards again and slowly rolled the wheel of a disposable lighter beneath his thumb.

 

The rough texture sent an unpleasant sensation through his fingertips. He couldn’t be bothered getting up to open the window, yet lighting it inside would leave the room smelling of smoke. Sensitive Eun-ho would probably notice immediately.

 

“Fuck…”

 

Do-hyeon bit down on the cigarette filter. He had never felt anything quite like this before. It was too heavy to call simple irritation. Too sticky to call ordinary jealousy.

 

The unfamiliar feeling that had taken hold when Yeo Eun-ho left the classroom with his arm around Kwon I-hyeon had been eating away at him all day. When he looked at the empty doorway afterwards, everything around him seemed to recede.

 

Something was going to go wrong.

 

Or perhaps something already had.

 

Throughout every lesson, the image of Eun-ho following the transfer student replayed endlessly in his head, accompanied by the memory of their joking voices. Do-hyeon finally stood and lit the cigarette.

 

Smoke curled upwards.

 

He opened the window and exhaled outside. Heavy summer air rolled into the room as the white smoke quickly dispersed. The feeling itself wasn’t new.

 

What surprised him was how long it had been festering inside him. Still, Do-hyeon was confident he could gradually work his way into Yeo Eun-ho’s life by staying close to his side. Slowly, without Eun-ho even realising it. If he simply cut off anyone else who showed an interest in Eun-ho, offered comfort as a ‘friend’ whenever things got tough, and then, at the right moment, showed a vulnerable side and clung to him, soft-hearted Eun-ho would stay by his side just as he had at the funeral.

 

All he had to do was hover around Eun-ho and gently lure him in. He had planned to brush against him as if by accident, pull him into a hug under the guise of playfulness, caress him here and there under the pretence of satisfying curiosity, and finally drag him into bed using the excuse of needing warmth.

 

Plummeting grades.

 

The loneliness of coming home to a dark house.

 

Anxiety about the future.

 

No matter what flimsy excuse he used, gentle, kind Eun-ho would complain and curse, yet still reluctantly let him in. Using his late parents as an excuse would probably have worked too. Eun-ho would have followed along with that innocent look on his face, unaware of where he was being led. Just like a duckling following the first person it saw.

Or like Eun-ho walking while distracted by his phone, mindlessly following the footsteps ahead of him. Everything had been going exactly according to plan— until Kwon I-hyeon showed up.

 

Ironically, Yeo Eun-ho really didn’t know a thing. He didn’t know that Do-hyeon had quit the English academy he was attending just to follow him into taekwondo and be around him. He didn’t know Do-hyeon had started competing as an athlete simply because he loved the way Eun-ho looked up at him with pride whenever the instructor praised him. He didn’t know Do-hyeon still occasionally smoked, a habit he had picked up from an older student after performing badly at a competition.

 

Nor did he know that, thanks to teachers who strongly supported Do-hyeon’s university application through his school record, his CSAT score didn’t matter nearly as much as Eun-ho imagined. And Yeo Eun-ho had no idea how Do-hyeon truly felt about him either. He didn’t know what lay behind Do-hyeon’s gaze whenever he hid beneath the convenient mask of a childhood friend. He didn’t know how much those round eyes affected him, or what kind of fantasies filled Do-hyeon’s mind when he lay awake at night.

 

Yeo Eun-ho really had no clue.

 

If he knew about the messy desire simmering deep inside Do-hyeon, the sordid sediment of emotion that even Kwon I-hyeon had recognised almost immediately, he wouldn’t have simply tossed his school uniform aside and left. Do-hyeon stubbed out his cigarette against the outer window ledge. White smoke dissipated along with the rapidly fading ember. He tossed the butt away.

 

Reaching towards the bed, his fingers brushed against the crisp, rustling fabric of a school uniform. It was the shirt Eun-ho had left in the locker after borrowing Do-hyeon’s PE kit. 

 

Perhaps he’d found it too much trouble to change back after PE, or maybe he had simply forgotten. After leaving his shirt in Do-hyeon’s locker, Eun-ho hadn’t returned for the rest of the school day.

 

Do-hyeon slumped back into his chair and draped Eun-ho’s shirt over his face. The white light of the overhead lamp flickered through the thin, stiff fabric. The scent of Yeo Eun-ho clinging to the shirt seemed to envelop his eyes and ears. 

 

The faint scent of fabric softener.

 

The dry, crisp smell of the dryer.

 

The subtle aroma of soap.

 

Yeo Eun-ho always carried the scent of soap and water, as though he had just stepped out of the shower. It lingered lightly, clean and airy, before drifting away. A scent that somehow suited Yeo Eun-ho perfectly. 

 

Surrounded by Eun-ho’s scent, a heavy heat began to pool low in Do-hyeon’s body. He lightly grazed the growing hardness beneath his school trousers. Even that brief touch made a dull ache spread through him.

 

Exhaling a low breath, Do-hyeon undid the top button of his shirt, easing the tightness around his neck. He slowly ran his palm over the rough fabric of his trousers. His fingertips caught on the hard zipper. Still seated, he fumbled with the buckle and loosened his trousers, relieving the pressure around his lower body.

 

“Haa…”

 

Do-hyeon leaned his chair back as far as it would go. A low, drawn-out breath escaped him. Though his neck ached from the angle, he made no move to remove Eun-ho’s summer shirt from his face. With each breath, warmth gathered beneath the fabric, mingling with the scent that reminded him so strongly of Eun-ho.

 

Do-hyeon pictured the back of Eun-ho’s pale neck. The fine hair that gleamed beneath sunlight. The skin that flushed red beneath the early-summer sun. The line of his spine whenever he lowered his head.

 

His grip tightened. The fabric of Eun-ho’s school uniform brushed against the tip of his nose and lips, rising and falling with every breath. Do-hyeon’s mind was filled with Eun-ho.

 

His pale hands.

 

His short, neatly trimmed nails.

 

His straight fingers.

 

The delicate wrist bones that stood out whenever he used strength. The blue veins beneath his fair skin.

 

“Haa… fuck…”

 

Do-hyeon let out a low curse. His breathing grew heavier. The room seemed unbearably warm. Every image that came to mind was Eun-ho. With every breath, Yeo Eun-ho moved closer. With every breath, his face flushed. With every breath, he clung to Do-hyeon. His entire world was Yeo Eun-ho.

 

Eventually, the tension broke, leaving a wave of heavy, languid relief behind. Do-hyeon remained slumped in the chair for a moment, breathing slowly. Then he pulled the shirt from his face and stared at it. After cleaning himself up, he let the uniform fall carelessly onto the floor.

 

He leaned back, exhausted, and reached into the drawer for another cigarette. His fingers met only the empty packet.

 

Ah.

 

That had been the last one.

 

Frowning, Do-hyeon crushed the light box in his hand and dropped it into the rubbish bin. Just then, the phone sitting on his desk lit up. He lifted one weary arm and checked the screen.

 

It was Yeo Eun-ho.

 

Yeo Eun-ho: Hey, I left my uniform shirt in your drawer earlier.

 

That’s my Yeo Eun-ho.

 

The corners of Do-hyeon’s mouth slowly curled upwards.

 

Do-hyeon: I grabbed it earlier. I’ll wash it, so you can take it next time.

 

Yeo Eun-ho: OK

 

Yeo Eun-ho: Hey, wanna see this?

 

Several photographs of the kitten appeared beneath the white speech bubble. Do-hyeon simply turned off the screen and tossed the phone carelessly onto the bed. The muggy air swept away the faint smell lingering in the room. Relaxing his body and savouring the pleasant lethargy, Do-hyeon turned his head slightly and looked at Eun-ho’s white shirt crumpled on the floor.

 

A smile played faintly on his lips.

 

‘This trash-like heart of mine—it won’t even rot away, so what can I do?’

 

‘You’re the only one who can hold it, Yeo Eun-ho.’