GBH 28

 Knowing he wouldn’t give up easily, Kim Deuk-pal anticipated Choi Se-kyung’s attempt to grab his collar and aimed a punch at his stomach. The punch landed squarely, but a splayed hand was already there to absorb the impact, as if Choi Se-kyung had anticipated the attack.

Kim Deuk-pal caught the punch aimed at his stomach with his hand and tripped Choi Se-kyung. Losing his balance, Choi Se-kyung stumbled, but before he could fall, he grabbed Kim Deuk-pal’s collar. The two figures toppled over together, causing the ground to vibrate.

Ragged breaths mingled amid their scuffling movements that were clumsy yet intense, unable to keep up with the imminent explosive energy.

Choi Se-kyung swung his fists, landing a blow on Kim Deuk-pal’s cheek, which caused his head to snap to the side. In return, Kim Deuk-pal kicked out and yanked Choi Se-kyung by the collar, using the momentum to pull him down and roll over. Just before Kim Deuk-pal could mount him, Choi Se-kyung shoved him off by pushing his shoulder.

Dust rose around them as the two boys grappled and tumbled in the dirt.

The struggle ended with Kim Deuk-pal pinning Choi Se-kyung by sitting on his waist. He pressed on Choi Se-kyung’s throat, neutralizing his resistance. Choi Se-kyung’s baseball cap had fallen off during the scuffle, and his disheveled black hair spilled out. Kim Deuk-pal rained down punches on Choi Se-kyung, who lay beneath him.

Choi Se-kyung’s eyes, bloodshot from burst vessels, glared at Kim Deuk-pal with resentment. Staring impassively, Kim Deuk-pal opened his fist and slapped Choi Se-kyung’s face with his palm – a technique used to inflict widespread shock rather than concentrated impact.

No matter how many times Kim Deuk-pal slapped him, Choi Se-kyung’s eyes remained defiant, not showing any fear. Instead, his determination grew, and he finally managed to grab Kim Deuk-pal’s wrist. As they wrestled for control, the pressure on Choi Se-kyung’s throat eased, and he took advantage of the moment to twist his body.

Though Kim Deuk-pal resisted, his smaller and thinner frame couldn’t withstand the force. The positions reversed, with Choi Se-kyung pushing Kim Deuk-pal aside and pinning him down, pressing on his throat as he had been earlier. Unlike Kim Deuk-pal, who had controlled his strength to avoid causing serious harm, Choi Se-kyung, inexperienced in fighting, squeezed Kim Deuk-pal’s slender neck with all his might.

“Urgh…”

While Choi Se-kyung couldn’t match Kim Deuk-pal’s experience, Choi Se-kyung was physically stronger. Skill can only go so far when overpowered by sheer strength. Kim Deuk-pal scratched at the dirt, struggling as his vision blurred from lack of air. Feeling the grains of sand under his fingernails, he gathered some dirt in his hand to throw at Choi Se-kyung. But just as he was about to, he noticed something damp on his skin. The pressure on his throat lessened, and he looked up.

“….”

The strength drained from Kim Deuk-pal’s dirt-clenched hand. Choi Se-kyung’s shoulders, silhouetted against the half-moon, trembled. From under the tousled hair flattened by his cap, tears welled and streaked down his distorted eyes.

Choi Se-kyung was crying.

“It hurts…”

Before he knew it, the pressure from Choi Se-kyung’s hands had eased, and he expressed his pain.

“Hey, you jerk. You’re the one who hit me first…”

Kim Deuk-pal roughly pushed Choi Se-kyung’s hands away and started to get up, but Choi Se-kyung’s sobbing words pierced through him.

“Please… It hurts so much… That day, not being able to catch Song Yi-heon… It hurts so much…”

Those words paralyzed Kim Deuk-pal.

“Please, please just tell me… if Song Yi-heon is okay… That’s all I need to know…”

“Hey, Choi Se-kyung.”

“Please, I’m going crazy. Just tell me if he’s okay, if he’s safe… Please…”

“Ha, hey…”

“It’s not hard, just tell me anything, I’ll give you anything… Please, I’m begging you…”

Choi Se-kyung crumpled over Kim Deuk-pal, his sobs growing more vehement as he pleaded and clung to him. Kim Deuk-pal called out to him worriedly.

“Choi Se-kyung. Choi Se-kyung-ah. Choi Se-kyung.”

But Choi Se-kyung didn’t seem to hear, releasing all the pent-up tears he had held back for so long. His tears fell as fiercely as the rain that day. As Choi Se-kyung’s consciousness drifted back to the gate where he last saw Song Yi-heon, he found himself trapped in the memory of that rainy day.

“Every day, I regret it. Every day, I regret letting you go like that, for losing you…”

Choi Se-kyung bit his lip and closed his eyes, his tears falling like raindrops. The pain he spoke of was not from the punches he had received.

Just as he had wanted to hold on to Song Yi-heon that rainy day, he grasped at anything within reach with his weakened hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you go. I’m sorry I missed you.”

Though Kim Deuk-pal’s face was obscured by Choi Se-kyung’s fallen hair, his cheeks were wet with tears. Forgetting his suspicion that the person pinned beneath him wasn’t Song Yi-heon, Choi Se-kyung poured out his wounded feelings.

“I’m sorry for pushing you. I’m sorry for not taking you in. I’m sorry for leaving you shivering.”

Whenever Choi Se-kyung thought of Song Yi-heon disappearing barefoot into the rain, a dull pain spread through his heart. He often imagined doing the opposite of what he had done that day.

In his imagination, he crossed the garden with an umbrella, holding a pair of shoes in his hand. He approached Song Yi-heon, who was waiting at the doorbell, put the shoes on him, draped a coat over him, and brought him inside. Regardless of whether the chair got wet, he sat Song Yi-heon down and warmed him up. He offered him warm tea and dried his wet hair. He was ready to listen to any of Song Yi-heon’s threats, pleas, or requests. He listened to him, reassured him, and let him sleep in his bed. In this imagination, the wounded, pained look that had haunted Choi Se-kyung did not exist. Song Yi-heon fell asleep with a relaxed face.

Sometimes, the fantasy ended with Song Yi-heon smiling, completely at ease. However, that smiling face was never vividly rendered, as if obscured by a frosty haze over the window.

Though the fantasies made Choi Se-kyung feel better for a moment, the aftermath was severe. The more happiness he imagined, the greater his sense of loss and emptiness. Imagination was just that—imagination. Reality didn’t change. The wounded and fleeing Song Yi-heon never appeared before Choi Se-kyung again.

“Just forgive me once. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Yi-heon. Can’t you give me just one more chance…?”

Choi Se-kyung clung anxiously, his hand clutching Song Yi-heon’s hoodie in a death grip, trembling at the thought of losing him again. Choi Se-kyung, who had maintained emotional distance by not sharing feelings with others, was utterly helpless faced with such intense emotional upheaval involving another person. With no immunity to such feelings, he felt the full brunt of the pain and was left utterly devastated, like a defeated person who had hit rock bottom.

With the catalyst that had driven him gone, Choi Se-kyung wandered alone in an endless maze of pain with no way out.

“Please, please. Yi-heon, Song Yi-heon…”

No matter how much he cried and pleaded, the silence in response made Choi Se-kyung crumble into despair. Would he lose him again like this? He didn’t want to let go yet couldn’t reach him, his sobs growing heavier like a lost child. Watching Choi Se-kyung’s increasingly heaving, slumping shoulders, Kim Deuk-pal let out a heavy sigh.

“You… ha…”

What am I supposed to do with this kid?

Hearing the sigh, Choi Se-kyung raised his tear-distorted face. Unable to just watch his pitiful crying, Kim Deuk-pal wiped his eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. Eventually, he embraced Choi Se-kyung’s shoulders and let him bury his face in his own shoulder, which quickly dampened from the tears.

Kim Deuk-pal gently patted Choi Se-kyung’s back and shoulders, reflecting on the apologies Choi Se-kyung had muttered.

HeI really underestimated him by thinking he was just a child. The wound Choi Se-kyung has suffered is no light matter.

He looked up at the sky, where dark clouds were gathering. The heavy air felt like rain was imminent. He didn’t want to let these kids get rained on again.

“You might not believe it, but… about halfway, yes, I am Song Yi-heon.”

The body was Song Yi-heon’s, so it wasn’t a lie. He understood what Choi Se-kyung wanted, but he also didn’t want to deceive him under the guise of consolation. Kim Deuk-pal fell silent as he carefully chose words as close to the truth as possible. The tremors of crying transmitted from the leaning shoulder reverberated in his heart. His heart felt peculiarly buoyant. At least one person genuinely worried about Song Yi-heon.

So Choi Se-kyung also deserved to know. Unable to discern whether to reveal the truth after much indecision, Kim Deuk-pal impulsively leaned his cheek against the head buried in his shoulder.

“Song Yi-heon has gone to… rest for a while.”

Kim Deuk-pal didn’t believe that Song Yi-heon’s soul was dead. As long as the body was here, he figured that if the soul had perished, there would be some sign. He had felt an indescribable sense of loss from his own separation from his body.

“He jumped off the overpass but wasn’t seriously hurt. He’s safe. He’s not in danger, and he’s resting comfortably, doing what he wants. I promise.”

He added these words to reassure Choi Se-kyung, who was worried about Song Yi-heon’s well-being. Though he couldn’t be certain, he believed that as a spirit, Song Yi-heon wouldn’t get hurt.

“So…”

Kim Deuk-pal looked up at the sky. It wasn’t a hallucination. Cold raindrops began to fall on his cheek. He wrapped his arms around Choi Se-kyung, shielding him from the rain. Oblivious, Choi Se-kyung blinked his tear-tangled lashes while lying on the ground. Unspent tears streaked the reddened, swollen eyes beaten by fists and crying.

Kim Deuk-pal braced himself with his forearms on either side of Choi Se-kyung’s face. The tears that had been drying in Choi Se-kyung’s distorted eyes now trickled down in rivulets. It was because his gently smiling face perfectly matched the one Choi Se-kyung had imagined – the smiling face of Song Yi-heon that never materialized, as if obscured by frost on the frame, now vividly unfolded before him.

“Let’s wait together.”

Shoosh— A downpour started. Raindrops splashed white along Kim Deuk-pal’s silhouette as he shielded Choi Se-kyung. Just as he had swerved the car to save Song Yi-heon from falling from the overpass, he now threw himself to keep these kids from getting soaked in the rain.