By the time they got off the bus, the rain had already stopped. Yi-hyeon thought this was his chance to shake Han Jun off.
“That’s enough now. You can just get back on a bus here and go home. I’ll wait until the bus you take comes.”
At Yi-hyeon’s words, Han Jun slowly scanned their surroundings.
Aside from a single old building with all its lights off, looming bleakly across the road, there were only a few scattered points of light in the distance. The lights sat a little higher up—were those houses on the mountain?
“Where’s your place? I’ll walk you there.”
“It’s close. Right up ahead.”
“That’s your place?”
Han Jun pointed straight at the building in front of them.
He said he’d seen plenty of cafes with an abandoned-factory concept, but this was his first time actually seeing someone live in an abandoned building, and his face showed genuine surprise.
“Is your roommate a ghost, by any chance?”
“Stop teasing me. And it’s not an abandoned building—it’s just an old training center.”
“I’m not teasing you. You’re the one who said it was right ahead. And that’s the only building right here.”
“Ha…… just—normally, anything within a fifteen-minute walk counts as ‘right ahead.’”
“Be honest. You lied to me.”
At Han Jun’s words, Yi-hyeon stared at him with wide eyes.
“Huh?”
“You don’t usually take this bus, do you?”
How did he know?
“Well, that’s……”
Flustered after getting caught in his lie, Yi-hyeon hurriedly tried to make an excuse. But Han Jun spoke first.
“Are you uncomfortable around me? Is it because of the rumors?”
Thinking he needed to correct this massive misunderstanding right away, Yi-hyeon shook his head hard.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just—well…… honestly, I didn’t want to show you the orphanage. I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“There’s no other reason. I was just afraid you’d be disappointed.”
“Me? Why?”
Yi-hyeon told Han Jun exactly what had happened in the past.
When he was young, Yi-hyeon had once brought his closest friends from class to his home. He’d worked up the courage, looking forward to the birthday chicken his mother had promised. But the kids hesitated to even step over the threshold of his house. Saying it looked like it might collapse, they left with disappointed expressions—and from the next day on, Yi-hyeon was called by a new nickname.
Being called “Beggar Yi-hyeon” was a shock big enough to shake him badly at such a young age. Bad enough that he even stopped going to school for a while. Han Jun, who had quietly waited for him to finish, let out a heavy breath. Then he spoke in a slightly hurt tone.
“So basically, you thought I’d be like that too.”
“It’s not exactly that. I was just…… kind of scared.”
“Like trauma, maybe? Well, if your closest friends did that, I guess it makes sense.”
Seeing Han Jun genuinely trying to understand his situation, Yi-hyeon felt a weight lift off his chest.
“Okay. Looks like it’s about to rain again. Let’s go.”
“Huh? Go? Where?”
“Your place. I wouldn’t care even if your house really was that abandoned building and your roommate was a ghost, so don’t lump me together with those trash kids. Lead the way. Raindrops are starting to fall again.”
Han Jun said that the thing was so tiny, and the road was dangerous at night—what if it went rolling around and got stepped on by a passerby? He’d just make sure Yi-hyeon got inside safely before leaving. Hesitating, Yi-hyeon finally started walking when real raindrops began to fall.
As he did, he muttered under his breath.
“It’s not an abandoned building. It’s a training center…… it gets crowded during the season.”
Worried about Han Jun’s white sneakers getting dirty, Yi-hyeon walked carefully—and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the orphanage. Had the orphanage always been this close to the training center?
“We’re here. This is it. But can you walk back to the bus stop by yourself? No—never mind, I’ll walk you. I’ll go grab my umbrella, so can you wait just a bit?”
“So what, we keep walking each other home until we end up going straight to school tomorrow?”
“Huh? Oh. I guess so.”
“I don’t even know the bus routes anyway. I can just call a taxi here.”
Yi-hyeon stayed by Han Jun’s side instead of going inside, waiting with him until the taxi arrived. A moment later, two white headlights cut through the darkness and came toward them.
“Looks like the taxi’s here. I’m heading in. See you at school tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Get home safe.”
“But you—what’s with that expression?”
“What about my expression?”
“You look really disappointed.”
“Don’t say weird things. I’m not disappointed at all.”
“Can’t you at least look a little disappointed?”
As Han Jun said this with a grin, the taxi stopped in front of the orphanage gate. Saying he was really going now, Han Jun pressed his umbrella into Yi-hyeon’s hand and got into the taxi.
“No, I’m fine—”
“I’m taking the taxi all the way into the parking lot, so I won’t get wet.”
Han Jun smiled brightly through the window and waved.
Once the taxi carrying him disappeared completely from view, Yi-hyeon turned back, smacking his lips with a faintly bitter taste lingering there. Just as he opened the old green gate with a creak and stepped inside, the image of Han Jun smiling and waving at him resurfaced.
Did I really…… look disappointed?
Yi-hyeon touched his face and muttered to himself.
Come to think of it, Han Jun really hadn’t minded at all.
Leaning against the old orphanage gate, asking the names of flowers blooming by the roadside. Even with the stench of dog feces and urine left behind by neighborhood dogs, he hadn’t wrinkled his nose once.
He’d treated it like any place that simply existed in everyday life. If he’d put on a polite expression or said something, Yi-hyeon would’ve thought he was being pitied. Instead, the fact that Han Jun did nothing—said nothing at all—made him feel at ease.
“Yeah. Maybe I really was disappointed.”
Letting out a short laugh, Yi-hyeon looked up at the umbrella Han Jun had left him. Thud, thud—the heavy drops falling from it sounded strangely like Han Jun’s calm, quiet voice.
