GB 50

Haero wrote a letter.

In fact, he had been writing countless letters that he would never send. He filled drawers with letters written until dawn, tearing at his hair.

As he wrote dozens of pages, the beginnings ranged from boring complaints like “What’s a kids lock? Why did you put that on me?” to anxious confirmations like “We’re not really brothers, are we?”

What did he want to confirm? Confirmation that it was okay to like him?

If the answer was no, he could accept it, but what if it was yes?

Haero already knew the answer.

That’s why he was filling drawers with letters he couldn’t send.

Haero knew that Yoon Moo-hwa regarded him merely as a very special younger brother, or at most as someone who saved his life. The cold help Yoon Moo-hwa offered when Haero was feverish gave him certainty. If Yoon Moo-hwa had been even slightly shaken by him, he would have uncrossed his legs, unfolded his arms.

But all that was left for Haero was an empty chair.

As the sleepless nights grew longer, Haero’s thoughts deepened and his heart expanded.

It was like exploring a heart that had already been expanded from the beginning.

And so, before he knew it, August had ripened.

Unbearably hot days continued.

Due to the high temperatures and UV rays that made outdoor training impossible, the August heat wave focused on rescue swimming.

Before the first class, Haero was completely forgetting his own situation, lost in thoughts of Yoon Moo-hwa.

It was others who reminded him.

“Hey, what’s this?”

Before entering the pool, someone grabbed Haero’s shoulder and turned him around forcefully. 

With his recent insomnia worsening his sleep deprivation, Haero felt like his brain was being shaken. “What?”

When Haero asked gruffly, the wide-eyed opponent jabbed Haero’s shoulder blade with his index finger. Being a prosthetic hand, the force and pain were considerable.

“What’s on your shoulder blade, you bastard. Isn’t that a tattoo pirates get?”

He had forgotten.

Haero closed his mouth in dismay.

In truth, he hadn’t thought about removing it. Influenced by Sun Ikhyun, who was campaigning to improve perceptions of pirates, Haero also believed that his current choices, not his origins, would prove who he was.

Even so, he should have been careful.

Forgetting the cover-up sticker was his mistake, but the tattoo on his shoulder or being found and raised by them as a newborn wasn’t his fault.

“So what? We’re in the same training situation here now. Does this tattoo make me not a cadet?”

“No, you fucking bastard. How can we train with a pirate? What if you hold my head underwater and kill me if I fall in the sea? You’re a spy, you fucker.” The cadet seemed to have tremendous hostility towards pirates.

Haero believed that this resentment was tightly screwed into his prosthetic hand. The metal fingertips kept jabbing his shoulder, feeling like they might puncture it, but he endured without showing it.

“I was picked up by pirates as a newborn and raised there. I didn’t know who they were or who I was living with, of course. I escaped when I was ten and lived with a navy family. Is that still a problem?” Haero asked, distinguishing the unique common language accent in the other’s speech. “I might have been using the common language longer than you. Aren’t we fellow cadets?”

“I can’t accept that.” The cadet gritted his teeth. “I can’t entrust my life to vermin like you.”

“Watch your words. Who knows if there are other naturalized cadets besides me.”

“They’ll know they’ll die if they cross me, so don’t worry about them. How about worrying about yourself first, since you’ve caught my eye?”

The cadet was about 1.5 times bigger than Haero. But Haero stood his ground without being intimidated.

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I’m more desperate than you to get on a ship.”

He had dreamed of only that his whole life. Realizing his feelings for Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t change that. Rather, it only made his strange obsession with boarding more firm. 

Haero armed himself with legitimacy. “So I don’t care whether you like me or not, just don’t cause a disturbance. I won’t care if you curse behind my back or don’t cooperate in training because you find me disgusting.”

While the number of cadets wasn’t particularly large, the probability of being on the same team as this guy wasn’t extremely high either.

Still, Haero’s grades were consistently in the top five, so the people he worked with were fairly similar. There must be a reason why this guy’s face was still unfamiliar.

Haero roughly removed the hand that was now gripping his shoulder brutally.

As Haero was about to leave without further engagement, the cadet spat and barked at his back, “Hey, trash. Then you agree that all pirates are garbage and should be killed as marine waste, right?”

“…”

“If you admit it with your own mouth, I might consider you somewhat recyclable trash.”

The triumphant voice made Haero even less inclined to comply.

He walked on, looking ahead without answering.

Regardless of this world’s cold and hostile judgment of pirate groups and Haero’s own developed ethics, these were still the people who had taken him in and raised him. If he called them trash as desired, it would be like denying himself. While he might not care about the criminal uncles, he couldn’t say that about the 3rd brother who was now likely living as Suhee, or the children who used to crawl after him.

And if he admitted it, what would that make Yoon Moo-hwa who brought him here?

Haero strode out onto the tiled floor into a space filled with the smell of water.

By the end of class, rumors about Haero had spread in all directions like water currents.

While it was inevitable for rumors to spread in such a small place before it became a small base or military academy, he hadn’t expected them to follow him here.

Haero sat alone on a bench in a corner of the building, staring blankly into space. It was a place rarely visited due to the stench from the nearby sewage treatment area.

Although he needed to hurry back with little time left before lights out, he wanted to be in a quiet place, even if just for a moment.

He was reminded of the island where he could be completely alone and at peace with just a short walk.

When things are tough, he can’t help but think of that place and his own cave. He wants to put just himself and Yoon Moo-hwa there for a while.

“It wasn’t a place where everyone was trash, or where people lived thinking about crime all day,” Haero muttered absently.

Like it or not, that place was Haero’s hometown. Sadly, it was true. Something he couldn’t help but think about when times were tough.

Haero squeezed his eyes shut.

He wouldn’t mind if only he was criticized, but now Haero knew the structure of this world well. The pipes of rumors would flow with the sewage, mixing this way and that, and eventually taint even Yoon Moo-hwa. While he might be the main prey for that cadet, for those who envied or disliked Yoon Moo-hwa, he would merely be bait. They must be eagerly waiting for the stench to spread.

When Haero was young, there were rumors that Yoon Moo-hwa had picked him up and raised him as an item for his father’s political advancement. There were also stories that Haero was the child of a big-shot pirate, kidnapped and being negotiated over with his parents.

Every one of these stories was more far-fetched than grasping at clouds. In this increasingly closed society as ranks went up, if someone could spread gossip about a superior’s family affairs, it was easy to deduce the suspects. So while it supposedly circulated only among a small group of people, unfortunately, Haero and Yoon Moo-hwa were also part of that small group.

But now, he wasn’t sure how the rumors would spread. If there was precise malice directed at him, and if it occurred in the society of cadets of equal rank, the situation would be different. At least, since these were kids considered among the smartest in the world, maybe they’d be a bit more creative.

Haero sneered and turned his tired steps towards the dormitory.

As the dormitory building came into view, he spotted Tan Shui lingering in front of the door.

“Oh, Cadet Haero. An officer was looking for you. They’ve made announcements I don’t know how many times. Even those who didn’t know your name probably all know ‘Haero’ now.”

Looking at the grinning Tan Shui, Haero wondered if he hadn’t heard about what happened earlier today. He stared at his face for a moment, then nodded and tried to pass by.

“By the way, Cadet Haero, I hear you’re from a pirate background?”

‘As expected.’

Haero, truly annoyed, answered quickly, “I did grow up on what you call a ‘pirate island’ until I was ten, but I never boarded a ship. I escaped at ten, grew up just like you, and I think pirates are criminals. Is this ideological verification enough?”

“Why are you being so sensitive? Ideological verification? I didn’t intend to go that far.” Tan Shui casually draped his arm over Haero’s shoulder. “More than that, I thought Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa was really amazing. Not spreading rumors about it here and there. If it were me, I’d have made a documentary and done interviews. A pirate boy he saved, entering the Naval Academy. Isn’t that just perfect material for a drama?”

He’s the type to talk nonsense without malice. Would Yoon Moo-hwa need any reputation other than his record? Even without using him, he was already plenty amazing.

Haero wasn’t offended by being spoken of like a business item. It would be more accurate to say he didn’t care at all.

That’s enough for today. Haero shook off the annoying arm and walked away.

Tan Shui watched Haero’s retreating figure before lazily heading to his own room.

* * *

As usual for the sociable Tan Shui, cadets were gathered in his room. Each one was at the center of various groups.

“What did he say?” Among them was the guy who had spotted Haero’s tattoo. “He said pirates are criminals?”

“Bullshit!”

The guy who spat as he shouted went on a tirade, “Knowing they’re criminals and still shamelessly coming here? This place has many direct and indirect victims of pirates, if he knew that he couldn’t walk around with his head held high like that.”

A few who agreed nodded, while those who didn’t care pretended not to hear.

“Isn’t Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa really weird too? He should have known by the time he became a colonel. He must have been an officer back then too.”

“That guy seems like he was born an officer. ‘Waa, loyalty.’ Hahaha.” Someone made a silly joke, but there was no reaction.

“He must have saved more than one, right? Why did he only take and raise him? Hey, Tan Shui. Don’t you know anything?”

Tan Shui was already wearing headphones. They kept nudging him to answer, so he reluctantly played along.

“He must have been cute. You know, like how people bring home and raise animals.”

“Like a stray cat?” The snickering laughter had an unpleasant aftertaste.

The leader of the group sneered, “Really? Because he was cute? Well, then he’s quite a lucky charm. Good for raising public image, and with a decent face, he’s even an adorable kid with a promising future. He’s quite good as a partner in many ways.”

He kept snorting, “Interesting. Very interesting material.”

His name was Gorin, a collateral son from a fairly well-known minor media family.