Yi-hyeon’s gaze briefly brushed past the supervising teacher before returning to the principal.
“After that, Seo Wonseok’s harassment only got worse with each passing day, and I was hurt to the point where I couldn’t endure it on my own anymore. Then Han Jun transferred in. Han Jun was the only friend at this school who didn’t turn a blind eye to the school violence I was suffering and actually helped me. And because of that, as you can see, he was subjected to excessive violence by Seo Wonseok.”
“So our kid, who listens well to his parents at home and has never broken a single school rule at school, why on earth would he bully you? Are you sure you didn’t bully him first or try to drive a wedge between people or something like that?”
At Wonseok’s mother’s words, Han Jun let out a hollow laugh in disbelief, while the principal pressed a hand to his forehead as if a headache were coming on. Yi-hyeon silently walked over to Wonseok. Then he began rummaging through the inside pocket of the jacket Wonseok was wearing.
“Are you crazy? You—what are you doing right now…!”
Wonseok shouted as he violently twisted Yi-hyeon’s wrist that was searching through his inner pocket, then sprang to his feet, only to be grabbed by Han Jun as he rushed over. When Han Jun’s grip forced Wonseok’s hand to loosen, Yi-hyeon opened a small zipper tucked deep inside the jacket and pulled out the cigarettes and lighter hidden within.
“Isn’t possession of cigarettes a violation of school rules?”
Seeing that, Han Jun muttered under his breath, wondering why parents who didn’t even know what was inside the bag of a son who ate, washed, slept, laughed, and joked right next to them every day would go on making speculative excuses—saying he’d never broken a school rule, that he must’ve been manipulated—about what their child was doing at a school so far away.
“This is, I mean—ah! It’s not mine, it’s Haejun’s. That bastard Haejun’s parents are really strict, you know. So I was just holding onto it for him for a bit—”
“Among the apps installed on Seo Wonseok’s phone, there’s one called Lucky Good Day. You should check it. A student engaging in gambling-style games is also a violation of school rules.”
Yi-hyeon’s expression, as he handed Wonseok’s phone—pulled out together with the cigarettes—to Wonseok’s parents, was confidence itself.
Only then did Wonseok’s father lose all will to argue back, lashing out in anger as he struck Wonseok hard on the back with his palm, while another adult had to clamp a hand over their forehead, forcibly suppressing the rage boiling up inside.
Han Jun lightly patted Yi-hyeon’s back as he returned to his side, watching him closely. To Han Jun’s encouragement—asking if he was okay and telling him he’d done well—Yi-hyeon put on a gentle expression and nodded.
As ongoing circumstances of school violence had been confirmed, the meeting concluded that it was appropriate to pass Wonseok’s case on to the Office of Education.
Until the date of the school violence committee was set and appropriate disciplinary action was taken, the school decided to keep Wonseok and Yi-hyeon separated. In addition, the school stated its intention to take disciplinary measures against teachers who had failed to respond appropriately to students’ school violence cases, bringing the meeting to a close.
***
“Yoon Yi-hyeon!”
Just as Yi-hyeon was about to head home with his mind in turmoil, Han Jun stopped him. At Han Jun’s suggestion that he’d walk him home because he was worried Wonseok might lash out and follow him for revenge, Yi-hyeon hadn’t thought the guy who’d been dragged off by his parents would escape the house that quickly. Still, wanting to be with Han Jun outweighed everything, and he nodded without refusing.
“You’re taking the bus, right? This time, can I press the stop button?”
When the bus arrived, Han Jun grinned as he proudly showed Yi-hyeon his card. Yi-hyeon, who had once thought they’d never ride the bus together again after what Han Jun had said back then, let out a soft laugh—pfft—without realizing it.
“Don’t tell me you made a transit card just so you could press the stop button. No way, right?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Ah—what the hell. You’re really cute—”
Yi-hyeon cut himself off and shut his mouth. Wondering how on earth his inner thoughts had slipped right out, he shoved Han Jun through the open bus door.
“What was that? Weren’t you about to say I was cute just now? Why’d you stop halfway? Or am I only half cute, so you only said half of it?”
Yi-hyeon resented Han Jun for being so quick on the uptake, completely unaware of how flustered Yi-hyeon was over the fear of his feelings being exposed.
“It’s not like that. It’s just… well, there are guys who don’t like being called cute. That’s all.”
“I like it.”
“O-okay. I’ll remember that.”
“Don’t just remember it. I want input and output at the same time.”
“Got it.”
“Not ‘got it.’ Output.”
The bus was already crowded enough to be embarrassing, and with Han Jun constantly harping on about output, Yi-hyeon shoved his broad back all the way toward the rear seats. In the end, unable to hear the word ‘cute’ from Yi-hyeon’s own mouth, Han Jun sat down in the seat just in front of the very back, wearing a sulky expression.
Just as Yi-hyeon was about to sit, the bus started moving, throwing his balance forward. He nearly slammed into the seatback in front of him, but thanks to Han Jun wrapping an arm around his waist, the recoil dropped him straight into the seat. Yi-hyeon wanted to say thank you, but even after sitting down, the arm still pressed against his waist made his heart lose its tempo and start racing wildly.
“Um… I think it’s okay now.”
Trying to speak calmly while listening to his own uncontrollably pounding heart was no easy task, but maybe he’d gotten used to it after several tries—his voice came out fairly composed.
“What is?”
Han Jun blinked as he asked back. Though his heart still hadn’t settled, Yi-hyeon looked at Han Jun with a face he’d carefully arranged to seem nonchalant and gestured to Han Jun’s hand resting on his waist.
“This. I think you can move it.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
Swoosh. Han Jun slid his palm along Yi-hyeon’s back as if brushing it, then lifted his arm and stretched upward.
***
He’d thought Han Jun was just going to walk him home. But Han Jun said he couldn’t relax after everything that had happened today and, in the end, went so far as to greet the orphanage Director and come inside, staking out one corner of Yi-hyeon’s room. Then he insisted they study together, even hauling in the folding table from the cafeteria to set it up.
Anyone would think this is his own place.
Yi-hyeon found it absurd that Han Jun knew the orphanage’s layout and the placement of its belongings inside and out, but since it was still early—and because he wanted to be with Han Jun more than anything—he agreed.
“Huh? What is this? The answer’s number three. This is a totally basic problem—how did you get this wrong?”
Yi-hyeon was diligently working through math problems when, all of a sudden, Han Jun’s face slid into his field of vision.
If he keeps barging in like this every time without a care, how am I supposed to focus on the problems?
Rationally, Yi-hyeon thought it would be far more efficient to study alone than to be confused by Han Jun’s ambiguous attitude. Emotionally, though, his desire to stay a little closer to him was much stronger. Perhaps because of that, Yi-hyeon’s shoulder tilted slightly toward Han Jun.
As the distance between them narrowed, they could clearly feel each other’s body heat. Unaware of Yi-hyeon’s fluttering feelings conveyed through nothing but the warmth shared across the air, Han Jun sat with their shoulders overlapping and began solving the problem Yi-hyeon had gotten wrong. Han Jun’s glossy black hair kept tickling Yi-hyeon’s cheek, but Yi-hyeon didn’t move away.
“See, here, since B’s increase in energy is five times—are you listening?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t just listen. Come over here and actually look at the solution.”
With an arm around Yi-hyeon’s shoulders, Han Jun gently pulled him closer. Caught off guard by the sudden movement, Yi-hyeon’s body tipped toward Han Jun, and he hastily planted an arm on the floor to keep from falling. If he’d been even a moment slower, their cheeks would’ve touched. When Han Jun turned his head to ask if he understood, the warmth of his lips brushed so close that Yi-hyeon couldn’t help but flinch.
Their lips were close, as if they were right on the verge of a kiss. In that state, Han Jun tugged the corner of his mouth up into a grin and asked Yi-hyeon,
“Hey, can I sleep over tonight?”
Han Jun’s black eyes drifted to Yi-hyeon’s lips, as though waiting for an answer.
But Yi-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to speak at all. The heat climbing from the shoulder where Han Jun’s palm rested flooded over his face in an instant.
“What? Are you shaking? Was saying I’d sleep over because I was worried really such a scary thing?”
Afraid he might truly give himself away, Yi-hyeon hurriedly shoved Han Jun back with both hands and knit his brows slightly.
“W-why would I be shaking? I was just surprised because our lips almost touched. That’s all.”
Han Jun smiled, his eyes crinkling.
“You didn’t want them to?”
“What?”
“To touch.”
“No way. Are you crazy? You seriously say the most ridiculous stuff sometimes, and it’s not funny, so stop it.”
“Relax. It was just a joke.”
Sure it is