GBH 24

As Kim Deuk-pal returned to the classroom, he opened the locker attached to the very back wall.  The lockers, assigned in numerical order, were tall and spacious enough to easily fit a basketball. After neatly stacking his textbooks, workbooks, and gym clothes inside, he shoved the basketball on top. Then, silently, he gave a word of advice to the spirit of the person who was supposed to use that locker, but whose whereabouts were unknown.

‘If you plan to come back, do it after graduation.’

The school was a tough place for someone as delicate as Song Yi-heon. When the word “gay” suddenly flew out while they were washing their hands in the restroom, even Kim Deuk-pal’s heart sank for a moment. Kids who hadn’t directly experienced these situations were often cruel. Since they couldn’t gauge the pain their words might cause, they didn’t hold back. In the end, the ones who got hurt were always the weak.

If it had to be like this, it would be better for Song Yi-heon’s soul to return after graduation when he could decide for himself who to keep by his side.

Kim Deuk-pal threw in even the tie he had stuffed into his shirt’s chest pocket and closed the locker. He flapped the collar of his shirt to cool off the heat trapped underneath, but when the heat absorbed under the scorching sun didn’t easily subside, he called out to the group of girls gathered in the corner of the classroom.

“Yeon-ji! Can I borrow the fan?”

Though it seemed odd to ask for a fan in March, Kim Yeon-ji, who was chatting in the group, answered without even looking up.

“It’s in my locker~ Get it yourself.”

Since it wasn’t the first or second time he had borrowed it, Kim Deuk-pal unlocked Yeonji’s locker, took out the handheld fan, and held it under his chin. As the motor buzzed and the blades whirred, a cool breeze blew out. His skin, which turned red under the sun, gradually returned to its normal pale hue as the cool air brought his visible veins back to the surface.

Girls’ lockers were always filled with all sorts of things, from hot packs to fans, as if they’d completely lost their sense of seasonal timing. The ones who stayed for evening study were even worse. After witnessing a girl who loved coffee stocking her locker with different coffee mixes like she was running a café, Kim Deuk-pal had long since given up trying to understand.

Rather, with the thick skin of a middle-aged man, he shamelessly borrowed whatever he could for his own benefit. Seeing a girl in his class holding a tumbler as she walked by, he asked her,

“Is that water?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a sip.”

Though the girl hesitated for a moment, she handed over the tumbler, and Kim Deuk-pal took a drink. What started as a sip turned into finishing the entire tumbler once his thirst kicked in.

“Uh… sorry. I drank it all.”

“It’s okay.”

The girl responded with a soft smile. Just as Kim Deuk-pal was wondering whether he should refill her tumbler at the water dispenser, a couple of boys barged into the classroom, flinging the door open so hard it nearly broke. They immediately called out for Song Yi-heon.

“Hey, hey! Song Yi-heon!”

They were boys from the same class. The news of the recent basketball game must have spread, as the excited boys, upon spotting Song Yi-heon by the lockers, swarmed around him.

“I heard you totally owned Lee Jae-woon!”

“Well, I did.”

If it were the original Song Yi-heon, he would have been too embarrassed to function with so much attention, but Kim Deuk-pal neither denied nor showed false modesty. He was calm, even exuding an air of confidence, as the ragtag group of boys gathered around to heap praise on him while tearing down the despised Lee Jae-woon.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say. They had been annoyed by the well-built Lee Jae-woon always boasting about his athletic prowess, so when Song Yi-heon beat him at basketball, his best sport, they rejoiced as if it were their own victory and got all worked up.

“Hey, Song Yi-heon. Why have you been keeping quiet about your skills?”

“Did you see Lee Jae-woon’s face? He looks like death warmed over even in the classroom. Their class atmosphere is like someone died.”

“Of course. He was bragging so much about buying that basketball, and now he lost it.”

“You mean this?”

Kim Deuk-pal opened his locker, took out a basketball, and threw it. The boys caught it respectfully with both hands, exclaiming “Ooh” in admiration. While students might view it with envy due to its high price, it was an insignificant cost for a former successful gangster. The same went for Song Yi-heon’s card, whose limit was still unknown.

“We’re playing again tomorrow. Join if you want.”

“Should we?”

The boys were intrigued. They’d heard that Song Yi-heon flew around the basketball court, and if they were on the same team, they might be able to flatten Lee Jaewoon’s nose. As they were tempted but hesitating due to negative prejudices about Song Yi-heon, Kim Deuk-pal offered an irresistible prize.

“Whoever scores the most points tomorrow gets to keep the basketball.”

“Song Yi-heon is awesome!”

One of the cheering boys excitedly shook an unopened ion drink. Kim Deuk-pal pointed at the drink, taking his hand out of his pocket.

“Haven’t you drunk that yet?”

“This? No.”

“Give it to me. I’ll buy you a new one later.”

When Kim Deuk-pal opened his palm asking for it, the boy handed it over, though confused. Kim Deuk-pal looked for the girl who had given him water earlier, who was nearby with her friends. As soon as their eyes met, he shook the ion drink to signal her to catch it and threw it. The girl’s face turned slightly red as she caught the drink unexpectedly.

“What’s this? Are you two flirting?”

Another kid whistled and jeered, but was promptly ignored.

“Shut up. Don’t you guys play soccer?”

To be honest, basketball was just a sport Kim Deuk-pal played when bored; his true passion was soccer. Of course, he’d regularly visit baseball stadiums during the pro baseball opening season, but no sport could break the emotional impact of the 2002 World Cup that united the entire nation as Red Devils.

During his gangster days, Kim Deuk-pal had led the creation of an early morning soccer club, but ever since he found himself in Song Yi-heon’s body, he hadn’t had the chance to play. The park he went to for morning exercise only had a foot volleyball group, which left him itching for a proper game of soccer.

“Are you good at soccer too?”

“I’m decent.”

His meaningful smile suggested he was more than just “decent.” The kids, blinking their eyes, immediately understood that he was even better at soccer than basketball and embraced Kim Deuk-pal, cheering loudly.

“Why were you hiding that! We got completely crushed last week!”

Forgetting that they hadn’t included him before, they complained bitterly, remembering their painful defeat from the previous week.

The energetic third-year boys, eager to move their bodies, had been having inter-class team matches. Although Kim Deuk-pal got along well with the girls, he was still awkward with the boys and hadn’t been included in these matches.

Despite being called a “match,” it wasn’t anything grand, just soccer-loving kids gathering informally. Even if they won, the only rewards were bragging rights and a small prize pool of pocket money. However, kids that age tend to throw themselves wholeheartedly into everything except studying.

“Se-kyung!”

The boys who had been swarming around Kim Deuk-pal suddenly started calling for Choi Se-kyung. Scanning the room, they finally spotted him leaning casually against the front door of the classroom and waved him over as if they’d just struck gold.

“We already won the losers’ bracket match next week!”

Though they were celebrating their future win a bit prematurely, Se-kyung responded with a picture-perfect smile, lifting his thumb in approval, sharing in their excitement. However, his eyes remained cold as he watched Song Yi-heon occupy the center of attention among the classmates.

Just a while ago, they’d all been avoiding Song Yi-heon because he was rumored to be gay, but apparently the sting of last week’s loss had been enough to unite them around him now. The boys, all excited about soccer, surrounded him, asking what his best position was. And with that, Song Yi-heon had begun to blend in with them too.

One month. That’s how long it took for the changed Song Yi-heon to become the center of the class.

Choi Se-kyung leaned against the wall, tilting his body to catch glimpses of Song Yi-heon between the taller boys. His head resting back against the wall, his dark hair slid down over his eyebrows. His eyes locked on Song Yi-heon, watching him with a cold, calculating intensity, as if engraving him in his memory.

Song Yi-heon blended naturally among the excited boys with his simple, easygoing attitude. While he had won over the girls with his innate manners and careful behavior, he asserted his dominance among the boys by subtly showcasing his abilities without being intimidated. When Song Yi-heon said something, all the boys left the classroom together.

In the quiet classroom, Se-kyung became lost in thought.

The changed Song Yi-heon becoming the center of attention wasn’t the problem. Choi Se-kyung’s goal was to safely bring back the ‘original Song Yi-heon,’ and he didn’t care what the changed Song Yi-heon did. However, another problem had arisen.

Resting his forehead against the cold wall to soothe his throbbing head, Se-kyung pondered.

What Choi Se-kyung truly considered problematic was that he, too, was drawn to the changed Song Yi-heon.

* * *

The sedan waiting for the garage door to open under the wall entered and parked inside before the engine turned off. Se-kyung, sitting in the back seat, offered a polite smile as he said his farewell.

“Thank you for your work until this late.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Se-kyung must be tired from studying so late.”

Se-kyung got out of the car without revealing his discomfort at the middle-aged driver’s fatherly attitude. As he climbed the stairs connecting the garage to the living room, his emotionless face showed surprise and then fatigue upon seeing a man reading a newspaper on the living room sofa. He quickly put on a smile like a mask before making his presence known.

“You’re home.”

Prosecutor Choi Myung-hyun put down the newspaper he was reading and welcomed his son. He too seemed to have just returned home, wearing a shirt with his suit jacket removed. His neatly groomed hair from the morning was now slightly disheveled over his forehead, and the dark stubble on his strong jawline gave him a mature air.

Upon seeing his son, the lines around his eyes softened into crescent moons. While the two didn’t resemble each other much, their eyes were remarkably similar.

“You’re late.”

Se-kyung responded to his father’s feigned ignorance, knowing full well he was aware of his every move.

“I’ve been doing night study sessions at school lately.”

“I thought you said school was noisy.”

“It’s like a final memory before graduation. We won’t have many chances to get closer after graduating.”

Harmonious peer relationships. That’s what his father wanted, and it wasn’t a lie. Although the catch was that there was only one person he wanted to get close to, and his approach wasn’t purely for friendship.

“You haven’t gotten a girlfriend, have you?”

“Well…”

Se-kyung returned a similar eye-smile to his father, who asked the mischievous question with deepening eye-smiles. Choi Myung-hyun, pondering his son’s cryptic reply as if playing a guessing game, asked another question.

“Is it someone in your class?”

“We’re in the same class, but it’s not easy to get close.”

Se-kyung didn’t like Song Yi-heon, but he needed to get closer to him. The problem was that the changed Song Yi-heon wasn’t so quick to trust.

“You?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

When Choi Myung-hyun asked in surprise, Se-kyung shrugged nonchalantly.

“That friend must have very unique tastes.”

Se-kyung’s tightly closed lips twitched, trying to hold back a smile as he teased his curious father, seeming to reveal but not quite. Choi Myung-hyun, noticing his son’s playfulness, laughed out loud, clearly amused.

Their relationship wasn’t bad as long as Choi Myung-hyun didn’t try to suppress his son. His abundant education and wealth brought a leisurely attitude that allowed him to respect his son as an individual from a young age, and he put constant effort into his son’s emotional well-being, education, and parental bond.

Se-kyung said, adjusting the bag on one shoulder:

“I’ll head up first.”

“Alright, you must be tired. Get some rest.”

Having waited just to confirm his son’s return, Choi Myung-hyun also stood up. Se-kyung watched for a long time as his father entered the bedroom, carrying the folded newspaper and the briefcase he had placed at his feet in his large hands. The straight, unwavering back view, unchanged from his childhood to now, was an insurmountable mountain to Se-kyung.