As expected… Louis was gone.
Yi-hyeon’s chest felt tight and heavy.
“Look at this. This bastard’s Han Jun, right?”
“Yeah. Just looking at the back of his head, it’s annoying as hell—definitely him.”
“Dumb fuck. The way he runs is straight-up like a zombie.”
“When you crash, the rule is you grab the back of your neck first, right? But look at this asshole. Blood’s pouring out of his skull, his eyes are rolled back, and he’s still chasing the dog. For real, doesn’t he look completely fucking insane? Hyung said a zombie showed up in broad daylight, so he filmed it and uploaded it to the group chat.”
Yi-hyeon could only see the back of the phone, but the audio recorded at the time of the accident rang painfully clear. The screeeeech of tires scraping the ground, followed by a heavy thud—it was horrific. While Yi-hyeon trembled in fear, Wonseok snickered, saying they should rewind and watch Han Jun’s dazed face just one more time.
No matter how much you hate someone—this is too much!
Seeing Wonseok enjoy a video of someone getting seriously injured made Yi-hyeon feel nauseous. He was disgusted.
Normally, Yi-hyeon didn’t react much to Wonseok’s cruel jokes. After being bullied so many times, he’d learned that reacting only made it worse. But this—laughing at Han Jun—he couldn’t ignore that.
Why?
He didn’t know. Maybe it was simply because watching someone enjoy another person’s pain felt wrong. Yi-hyeon stood up from his seat and looked straight at Wonseok. Sensing Yi-hyeon’s uncharacteristic glare, Wonseok wiped the smile off his face and snapped, eyes rolling back.
“What the fuck are you staring at?”
“Someone got hurt. Isn’t it too much to laugh about it?”
His voice was small, barely audible—but for Yi-hyeon, it was a clear expression of his stance. When Wonseok’s eyebrow twisted, Yi-hyeon felt his heart shrink, yet he didn’t look away.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“He’s our classmate. If he gets hurt, shouldn’t you be worried instead of laughing?”
“Who’s your classmate? Your friend or something?”
Wonseok turned to Haejun, who’d been sitting beside him, snickering along.
“Not mine. Looks like he’s that guy’s friend.”
Haejun jerked his chin toward Yi-hyeon, and Wonseok’s gaze returned to him.
“Ohhh, so you’re saying this zombie here is your friend?”
Wonseok tapped the phone screen with his finger. The oppressive look in his eyes reminded Yi-hyeon of his father. Fear he hadn’t felt moments ago surged up, his throat slowly drying out. His face tingled, heat rising, and the tightly clenched fist at his side felt burning hot.
Normally, this was the point where he would’ve gotten scared and backed down. But somehow—he didn’t know where it came from—Yi-hyeon found the courage to add one more line, staring straight at Wonseok.
“So what… if he is?”
Wonseok stared at him silently for a moment, then scoffed.
“Bullshit. Han Jun’s your friend? Says who—him, or just your delusion? That guy’s a full-on misanthrope who doesn’t give a shit about anyone and looks down on people. And you think he keeps you as a friend? Did your brain rot from studying too much? That’s one hell of a fantasy, asshole.”
In the past, Yi-hyeon wouldn’t have been able to refute Wonseok’s words. But now that he knew what kind of person Han Jun really was, he couldn’t accept a single word of it. Just as he was about to argue that Han Jun wasn’t some misanthropic nutcase, the geography teacher opened the classroom door and told everyone to sit down. With no choice, Yi-hyeon shut his mouth.
He turned around and dropped heavily back into his chair.
“Hah… what the hell did that bastard eat today?”
“He really might be close with Han Jun. Every time you messed with him, that guy helped Yoon Yi-hyeon out.”
“When did I ever mess with anyone? That little shit? Fuck off—was that bullying? I was just playing with him because I felt sorry for him.”
Wonseok and Haejun’s voices drifted from behind.
It was barely above a whisper—idle chatter at best—but to Yi-hyeon, it sounded as loud as if they were talking right next to him.
***
“For third-years, instead of an overnight school trip, we’ll be going to a nearby amusement park. Anyone who wants to participate should discuss it with their parents and apply using the QR code on the handout.”
During homeroom dismissal, the teacher handed out papers by row. It was a parental consent form for the spring outing. At the words “day trip,” students accepted the handouts with deflated expressions, stuffing them into their bags. Yi-hyeon’s mind was already full, planning to ask the teacher about Han Jun once dismissal ended, when the student behind him lightly tapped his back.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Yi-hyeon snapped back to attention and saw the student in front of him waving the paper impatiently. Only then did Yi-hyeon apologize and take the handout.
“I’ve heard other classes just show academy registration slips and go to PC cafés or billiard halls instead, but I trust there aren’t any idiots like that in our class.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And—anyone live near Korea University Hospital? Or planning to go there today or tomorrow?”
The moment he heard that, Yi-hyeon’s eyes lit up. He immediately realized it was an errand—to deliver the handout to Han Jun.
This might be my chance!
If he ran the errand, he’d naturally find out Han Jun’s hospital room.
Korea University Hospital was in the opposite direction from the orphanage. Still, he was worried about how badly Han Jun was hurt, and for someone like Yi-hyeon—who wasn’t particularly close to him—it was the most natural way to approach him. He quietly raised his hand.
“Then Yi-hyeon, take an extra copy of the handout and bring it to Jun. I’ll text you the room number.”
“Yes.”
He faintly heard Wonseok mutter, “Is that bastard seriously out of his mind?”
As soon as dismissal ended, Yi-hyeon bolted out the front door almost at the same time as the teacher, afraid Wonseok might grab him.
Before heading to the hospital, Yi-hyeon stopped by a mart near the school. It was to buy a gift for Han Jun, but since he’d never visited someone in the hospital before, he had no idea what was appropriate. After hesitating, he glanced around and cautiously approached an employee who was packing items.
“Um… I’m trying to buy a get-well gift for a friend. Could you recommend something under ten thousand won?”
“Drinks or fruit are the most common.”
At the word “fruit,” apple mangoes—Han Jun’s favorite—immediately came to mind. Thanking the employee, Yi-hyeon headed straight for the fruit section. There, an apple mango with a soft reddish blush caught his eye. When the staff said it was perfectly ripe and ready to eat without further aging, Yi-hyeon instinctively reached for it—then froze stiff when he saw the horrifying number written underneath.
No way… that can’t be the price for just one, right?
Clinging to denial, he asked the employee.
“Uh… how many does this price cover?”
“One. Anything without a gram weight listed is priced per piece.”
“Ah……”
Yi-hyeon dragged out the sound, lost in thought.
Thinking he was hesitating, the employee added,
“Jeju-grown mangoes are high quality, so they’re expensive. Still, it’s 10% off right now, so it’s cheaper than other marts.”
This is considered cheap?
Yi-hyeon remembered the large quantities of apple mangoes he’d eaten instead of dog food while living in Chairman Joo’s house. Just how much money had gone into his stomach back then? Recalling the saying that ignorance is the scariest thing, he blinked his eyes blankly before slipping a hand into his pocket.
Weekly living allowance: 10,000 won. Minus the pen I bought today… current total: 8,820 won.
His entire week’s allowance was equal to the price of two apple mangoes. The realization hit him hard.
Ah… what do I do?
On top of that, there was a practical art evaluation this week, and he didn’t know how much the materials would cost. Spending 4,800 won on a single mango felt reckless. After agonizing for a long time, Yi-hyeon reluctantly reached for the cheaper apples next to it.
You really take after me—our Louis loves apple mangoes like crazy too. I’ll make sure you can eat them to your heart’s content for the rest of your life, as long as you stay healthy.
Han Jun’s voice echoed in his ears like a hallucination, as if it were some kind of divine revelation telling him to buy the apple mango. Chairman Joo’s face also flashed through his mind, as if asking whether he shouldn’t repay the kindness after accepting so much without question.
I don’t even know if he likes apples. If it’s a gift, shouldn’t it be something he likes?
Yi-hyeon put the apple back down.
If I substitute the school supplies with whatever’s available at the orphanage… maybe I can afford one.
Ah, whatever. Somehow it’ll work out.
Deciding to just do it and deal with the consequences later, Yi-hyeon picked up one apple mango.
When he was told the standard trash bag was 300 won and the paper bag was 50 won, he chose the paper bag. The employee dropped the single apple mango inside, all by itself.
Feeling awkward carrying just that, Yi-hyeon went back inside and headed for the snack aisle. He grabbed a couple of nitrogen-filled chip bags that weren’t too expensive but looked voluminous, then returned to the register.
After leaving the mart, Yi-hyeon swung the bag lightly in his hand as he headed toward the bus stop—then stopped and turned around. Buying snacks and the apple mango for Han Jun had left him barely able to afford the bus fare.
It’s only four stops. I can walk that distance easily.
