GBH 71

Kim Deuk-pal’s reason for disparaging Song Yi-heon’s father, the chairman, was not only because he maintained two households, but also due to the large age gap between the chairman and Song Min-seo. The chairman was old, while Min-seo was young. Min-seo was also naturally youthful-looking, so when the two went out together, they looked like father and daughter.

To Kim Deuk-pal’s common sense, it was rightfully condemnable that someone who had lived that long would get aroused by a young woman, as if he had consumed his age through his back door.

One didn’t easily earn the right to be respected for their age. It was only when one accumulated virtue equal to their years, combined with experience and wisdom, that subordinates would naturally serve them. Just aging reluctantly didn’t earn respect.

Even when girls from the same school expressed interest, Song Yi-heon, or rather Kim Deuk-pal, had no intention of reciprocating. That was absolutely not allowed. Even if Song Yi-heon’s soul came and begged on his knees, it was absolutely, absolutely not going to happen.

He entered the classroom and stared at Se-kyung’s still-empty seat, steeling his resolve. Yesterday he had been caught off guard, but he was determined not to show any weakness again. However, when a male student approached, put an arm around his shoulders, and said one thing, Yi-heon was thrown into confusion.

“Song Yi-heon, your ki-“

“What?!”

How do you know I kissed that young brat?! Like a thief startled by his own footsteps, Yi-heon, who had mistakenly heard “ki-” as the start of “kiss,” whirled around with blazing eyes. His wide eyes still held indignation about the absurd situation of being kissed by a young boy.

“I was asking what’s the secret to your height (ki)…”

The male student, suddenly subjected to this outburst, nervously removed his arm and stepped back. As he stammered out the rest of his question, which had nothing to do with kissing, Yi-heon felt his legs turn to jelly.

“Just eat. Just shove everything you see into your mouth.”

Giving this half-hearted but definitive advice, he headed to his locker to get out textbooks for today’s classes. When he opened his locker at the back of the classroom, he was greeted by a chocolate with a pink ribbon that hadn’t been there yesterday. He felt so faint that he had to grab onto the locker to stay upright.

“Huh…”

No, why are these young ones causing a fuss over an old man instead of playing sweetly amongst themselves?

Wondering what he had done wrong to suffer this misfortune, Yi-heon held his forehead as memories flashed by. What sin did I commit in my past life… Just then, Lee Jae-geun, passing behind Yi-heon, spotted the pink in his locker and shoved Yi-heon aside.

“Wow, hey! Hey! Song Yi-heon got a confession!”

Jae-geun waved the chocolate high, spreading the news in all directions. There was no way the hint of romance in the dreary life of third-year students would be ignored. Boys swarmed around, creating a commotion.

“Who is it? Is there a letter? A phone number? What are you going to do? Are you going to date?”

“Who confessed to Song Yi-heon? Tell me, I’ll help!”

Just then, Se-kyung entered through the classroom’s front door, and their eyes met. Like a child caught misbehaving, Yi-heon hurriedly snatched the chocolate, stuffed it in his locker, and flatly rejected the confession.

“Give it back. I’m not dating.”

“Well, with the college entrance exam so close…”

As the boys became gloomy at the thought of the exam, Yi-heon gritted his teeth and emphasized again.

“Even after the exam, I’m not dating. Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely not dating.”

“Ah, you…”

As a solemn mood descended with the memory of last year’s gay rumors that had stirred up the school, the girls who had been looking disapprovingly at the boys making a fuss over Yi-heon’s confession noticed Se-kyung’s split lip and gathered around him in surprise.

“Se-kyung, what happened to your lip?”

“I confessed and got rejected.”

“You confessed too?”

As the shocked question spread to the back of the classroom, the boys also started whispering among themselves.

“Looks like Choi Se-kyung confessed too.”

“Whoa, Choi Se-kyung got rejected?”

“But does that mean she beat up the person she likes? That girl’s personality is no joke…”

The person who had done the hitting trembled with clenched fists, unable to reveal the truth. It wasn’t because he liked Se-kyung, but because Se-kyung had kissed him without permission. Annoyed at Se-kyung for twisting the story to his advantage, he shook with the effort of restraining himself from punching him. The boys, connecting this to last year’s rumors about Song Yi-heon liking Choi Se-kyung, tried to divert attention to prevent the spread of false rumors that might trouble Yi-heon.

“Hey, the homeroom teacher’s coming. Scatter, scatter. Go to your seats.”

Song Yi-heon had to go to his seat too, but unfortunately, his seatmate was Choi Se-kyung. He wanted to slap his past self who had been thrilled when he switched seats with Lee Jae-geun, thinking he’d hit the jackpot. When the bell rang, he reluctantly trudged to his seat, where Se-kyung was already sitting, taking out his notebook and writing tools from his bag.

Up close, he could see that the cheek he had slapped yesterday after being kissed in the counseling room was swollen. Despite this, Se-kyung greeted him as warmly as usual.

“Yi-heon, hi.”

“…Yeah.”

“Did you get home okay yesterday?”

“…Yeah.”

After their lips parted in the counseling room and he had slapped Choi Se-kyung, Song Yi-heon had fled without looking back, unable to handle the dizzying confusion. Having never seen Choi Se-kyung as a romantic prospect, he could barely distinguish if the kiss had been a dream or reality.

The very fact that he had kissed that young boy was so awkward that Yi-heon didn’t know what to do. He pretended to run his hand through his hair to avoid looking at Se-kyung.

“I heard you got a confession.”

Yi-heon looked at Se-kyung over his arm that was messing with the back of his head.

“…What?”

“The chocolate.”

It seemed Se-kyung had seen it despite his attempt to hide it quickly. You’re not misunderstanding, are you, Choi Se-kyung? Afraid that Se-kyung might unnecessarily feel competitive or harbor false hope, Yi-heon vehemently denied it with both palms spread wide.

“Hey, I’m not going to date. Really, I absolutely won’t date.”

After saying this, it felt like he was making excuses with yesterday’s incident in mind, and Yi-heon bit his lip. Inevitably, the kiss from yesterday came to mind. Beyond liking or disliking it, he was so shocked that he barely remembered it, but as he recalled the sensation of the tongue that had slipped between his hurriedly pressing lips, he once again fell into self-loathing.

This young brat, falling for me, should have just stopped at a peck, but where did he get the nerve to put in his tongue, tongue, tongue… Song Yi-heon turned bright red and roughly crumpled his soft ear, then quickly changed his mind. Even a peck wasn’t okay. He’d rather quietly sit in a police station holding cell than rub lips with that young boy.

While he could handle Choi Se-kyung, liking him was a separate issue. He couldn’t understand what had made Choi Se-kyung like him, but there were limits to what was proper – having romantic feelings for that young boy was absolutely not allowed.

He might have recklessly confessed out of naivety, not knowing the ways of the world, but he would come to regret it. I’ll soon teach him a harsh lesson.

While Song Yi-heon was steeling his resolve, the corner of a notebook slid across the desk. It had neat handwriting on it.

[So I don’t need to be jealous?]

No, aren’t kids these days supposed to play hard to get? Why is this one so direct? The overly aggressive nature of modern youth romance made Song Yi-heon dizzy, and he collapsed onto his desk, his resolve crumbling.

“Damn, when are we changing seats…”

“I heard we change after summer vacation ends.”

Song Yi-heon, who revered teachers like gods, would never change seats on his own. Se-kyung’s laughter spread teasingly, tickling him.

The window seat was nice for its sunlight, but it had the drawback of being hot. The school didn’t turn on the air conditioning in the morning, so Song Yi-heon, who was sensitive to heat, fluttered his shirt collar.

“The keywords for this problem are reason, spirit, and desire. You should have found these. It says it’s an ancient philosopher. Who is it? It’s Plato. The characteristics of Plato’s philosophy are-.”

The ethics teacher’s explanation of the mock exam question spread over the quiet students. The ceiling fan’s whirring provided white noise. The students’ eyes, resting their chins on their hands, were drooping.

They needed to focus, but the heat made them lethargic. Song Yi-heon managed to keep his right arm holding the pen on the desk, but his left arm hung limply.

His transparent brown eyelashes, illuminated by the light flooding the window seat, gradually closed. The slowly closing and opening eyelashes eventually stayed shut, then suddenly flew open.

Something cool touched the tip of his left hand. Looking down, he saw long fingers hooking his index finger.

Even though the other students were dozing, trying to hold hands in the middle of the classroom startled Song Yi-heon, while Se-kyung acted as if nothing was happening, listening to the lesson. His profile, focused on the blackboard, seemed somewhat bored yet attentive. Without changing his expression, he kept his finger hooked while listening to the class.

“Hey…!”

Yi-heon called out in a low voice, urging him to let go before they were caught, but the tightly intertwined index fingers wouldn’t release him. It was better to stay still until Choi Se-kyung was satisfied and let go than to make a fuss trying to unhook their fingers.

Song Yi-heon reluctantly gave in. However, as he became conscious of their hands touching under the desk, his index finger felt as if it was burning. His skin, which had been warming up, now felt hot.

The fan whirred, and the teacher’s voice spread evenly over the half-asleep students. In this static scene, the two boys’ hands touched under the desk.

Somewhere on the school grounds, cicadas began to chirp.

It was the start of a sweltering summer.

* * *

Song Yi-heon resolved to cut Choi Se-kyung off completely. It was a decision made because he could no longer interpret Se-kyung’s skinship as mere friendliness.

However, contrary to his determination, he couldn’t cut Se-kyung off. The problem was that Se-kyung had seeped too deeply into Song Yi-heon’s daily life. The extent of Se-kyung’s intrusion was too broad to excise.

The housekeeper who prepared breakfast casually asked about Se-kyung.

“Se-kyung seems busy these days, doesn’t he?”

“…He is busy.”

It had only been two days since Se-kyung stopped coming, but the housekeeper already missed him. Unlike Song Yi-heon, who showed no affection in this bleak household, the pretty boy who came and went with warmth had brightened up the house. Now that he had stopped visiting, the house felt gloomy even with all the lights on.

The housekeeper’s heavy sigh sank as she entered the kitchen. Feeling guilty, Song Yi-heon focused excessively on eating his soup.

Choi Se-kyung was mentioned again at the dinner table. Song Minseo, picking up some anchovy side dish, suddenly asked out of nowhere. Unlike before when she wore slip dresses, she now wore proper indoor clothes, and her skin had a healthier glow compared to its previous dryness.

“Where’s that boy?”

“Who?”

Since regularly attending counseling and taking proper medication, Song Minseo had noticeably improved. She had recovered enough to join meals, but still hadn’t quite reached the realm of normalcy. While she recognized her son’s friend who had been visiting almost daily, she couldn’t remember basic information that a normal person would typically know, so she referred to him by his most distinctive feature.

“The pretty one.”

“…Choi Se-kyung is busy.”

Even Song Minseo was looking for Choi Se-kyung. Although there hadn’t been any particular incident to make them close, Se-kyung, who often brought fruit baskets or fancy desserts from the nearby cafe street and handed them over personally, had left a positive impression. His visits reminded Song Minseo of her own youthful, innocent love more than the countless photos of male celebrities Song Yi-heon had shown her on his phone.

“Bring him over.”

“……”

Her son’s circumstances didn’t particularly matter to Song Minseo. Song Yi-heon pressed down on his stomach, which felt like it might be upset from stuffing in too much food.

Choi Se-kyung’s absence didn’t end there. If only it had ended with personal relationships, it would have been fortunate. Song Yi-heon sat at his desk after a long time and stared blankly at his workbook. He had studied with Choi Se-kyung for too long. Having become too accustomed to the walking solution manual who could spout out solving processes at the slightest prompt, he now found himself at a loss on where to start solving problems alone.

Still, he tried to study somehow. Although he soon ended up rubbing his face in frustration, he gripped his mechanical pencil and steeled his resolve.

“I have to do this. I have to study, even without that guy.”

But the pencil trembled. It wandered aimlessly over the workbook, not knowing where to go, and even meandered over the reference book.

Eventually, Song Yi-heon collapsed onto his desk in defeat.

“How do you even study alone…?”

The white is paper and the black is text, so what’s important here? Should I memorize all this? Is that even possible? Back when he was Kim Deukpal, he had memorized everything, but now the very idea of attempting to memorize it all seemed reckless. No matter how much he glared at the book, there was no one to highlight the important parts likely to appear on the test with a fluorescent marker.

He could try to convince himself that life is a solitary journey from beginning to end, and that he should forget about Choi Se-kyung and study alone, but it was already too late. Song Yi-heon had already tasted the joy of improving his grades. Hadn’t he already experienced his grades shooting up just by doing what Se-kyung told him to do?

The mock exam result showing a grade 4 ranking, proudly stuck on the wall, was Se-kyung’s achievement.

It was Choi Se-kyung who had accomplished what even the best tutors in Daechi-dong couldn’t do. He had raised a perpetual grade 7 late learner to grade 4, a feat that could have warranted deification among the education-obsessed Gangnam parents. How much more significant would it be for Song Yi-heon who had experienced it firsthand? Once you know the thrill of improving your grades, it’s hard to give up.

And this wasn’t just any grade 4. Looking at the grade cutoffs, he was only a few points away from the next grade. It seemed like he could achieve grade 3 with just a little more improvement, but if his relationship with Se-kyung soured and he couldn’t study with him anymore, his grade might drop.

Song Yi-heon, anxious about potentially falling back to grade 7, suddenly felt overwhelmed. If Se-kyung was going to make him like him, he shouldn’t have let Yi-heon depend on him. If he was going to let Yi-heon depend on him, he shouldn’t have made him like him. Couldn’t they have just remained close friends?

He had tried to deny it all along. But if he couldn’t deny it after all this, it must be impossible. He couldn’t deny it anymore. He needed Choi Se-kyung. He wanted to study together. He wanted to hang out together. School life would be more fun with that guy.

But, but it didn’t feel like the emotion of liking someone. Where had it gone wrong, when exactly had that young boy developed romantic feelings for him? As Song Yi-heon pondered this, he pulled at his hair in frustration, unable to figure it out.

“Aaaaargh-! Choi Se-kyung-! You bastard-!”

Woof woof-!

The neighbor’s dog barked. The moon was bright, and the sleepless night grew deeper.