GB 34

The car suddenly stopped on the way back.

There had been no conversation between them since leaving the party venue.

Due to the suddenly changed atmosphere and cold expressions, people who were approaching to offer New Year’s greetings ended up avoiding Yoon Moo-hwa.

Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t even offer polite greetings to them, crossing the party venue while holding Haero’s hand.

Getting in the car, fastening seat belts, starting to drive– all of this happened without a single word, and Haero felt like he was shrinking more and more.

He was becoming intimidated.

Even when people gossiped about his background behind his back, or when he heard unhelpful advice like “You need to do well for Yoon Moo-hwa’s sake too,” Haero had never once felt discouraged, but Yoon Moo-hwa’s silence effectively crushed him.

“He’s a very scary person. Maybe not to you, but that’s his reputation. Too strict, too scary, a person who never makes mistakes. It’s both a compliment and an insult. People feel uncomfortable and afraid of things that are excessively perfect.”

When Yoon Moo-hwa was hospitalized, on the day he told him not to enter the hospital room until he said it was okay because he wouldn’t indulge his whining for the first time and he would keep crying, he could now vaguely understand the words Gu Yejin had given him as comfort. 

People could be indifferent to Yoon Moo-hwa’s eye injury because he was already a perfect and alien existence like an artificial eye. Unlike his natural black eyes that were always warm and gentle to Haero.

“……”

What should he say?

It was difficult for Haero to choose his words because he couldn’t understand why he was angry.

Leaving Haero like that, Yoon Moo-hwa suddenly got out of the car. Only after the door slammed shut did Haero, startled, crane his neck towards the side where Yoon Moo-hwa had exited.

The night was dark after the drone show had ended. The coated car windows thoroughly blocked the outside scenery.

As time passed, Haero’s anxiety grew. Just as he was persistently staring beyond the window, a small light shone in the pitch-black darkness.

Squinting his eyes, he could barely make it out.

Yoon Moo-hwa was smoking an electronic cigarette.

Haero was shocked, as this was the first time he had seen him smoke in the nearly 10 years he had lived with him.

Yoon Moo-hwa exhaled smoke calmly and habitually.

The longer the intervals between his exhales became, the more anxious Haero grew.

After what seemed like a long time to Haero, Yoon Moo-hwa got back in the car. He smelled of numbing mint.

As the car quietly started moving, Haero finally gathered the courage to ask, “Are you angry?”

“A little.” Yoon Moo-hwa answered briefly. He didn’t avoid answering.

“Because I ended up submitting an application to the Naval Academy?”

“Yes. Do you think you’ll get over it soon?” Yoon Moo-hwa laughed shortly, “I must have raised you too gently.”

He added in a voice without any sarcastic intention, “How naive.”

Haero, feeling upset, asked back, “We promised I’d enter the Naval Academy. And I clearly said I wanted to go too.”

“That promise is unnecessary. It was made with my father anyway, and there won’t be any problems if it’s not kept. At least not for you. And I clearly said no.”

Uncharacteristically for Yoon Moo-hwa, his response was lengthy.

Haero felt wronged. He was confident he would enter the academy as the top student, or at least second. That was certainly an honor. It also meant Yoon Moo-hwa could finally erase the sneering stigma of being “the responsible person who took in a child raised by a pirate group from an unnamed island.” If he had any intention of entering politics like his father, his admission to the Naval Academy should be a relief, not something to be angry about.

“If I hadn’t applied, there might not have been any problems, at least for me, but since I did apply, it should help you too. Why are you so angry?”

“Who told you to help me?” Yoon Moo-hwa’s voice was quite loud. 

Haero flinched and froze.

In the middle of the deserted road, Yoon Moo-hwa dangerously came to a stop.

Haero, unable to see Yoon Moo-hwa’s eyes that were usually so familiar to him, pressed his lips together and stared straight ahead.

After a moment, the car started moving again.

“You don’t need to think like that. If it’s a choice for my sake, I’m even more against it. Give it up now.”

“……”

“Did I look like some weakling who needs your help?” Yoon Moo-hwa was almost growling. 

He was angry, his voice low and grating. His tone revealed a hierarchy very familiar to him, but one he had never shown to Haero before.

“I’m doing fine without your help.”

It was humiliating.

Haero had believed he would be praised.

It wasn’t a brief delusion, but an expectation he had harbored for a long time, ever since he had brought him in and made his first voyage.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s words not only rendered that entire time meaningless but also brought him shame. Haero’s face turned red. With just a few words from Yoon Moo-hwa, his lifelong goal had become a childish obstinacy. What was even more distressing was that while he had been certain when submitting the application, now he was filled with doubt.

Was there really nothing else? Was it purely goal-oriented? Wasn’t it really to prove something to Yoon Moo-hwa? Not even a little? Didn’t you want to prove… anything at all?

As Haero squeezed his eyes shut, Yoon Moo-hwa drove the final nail in.

“You’re not suited for the military.”

“How do you know that?” With his fists clenched on his thighs, Haero asked in a voice swollen with hurt.

“No one knows better than me. You’re not suited for it.”

“You don’t know. Not until I try.”

“You’re not even listening to me now, how do you think you’ll manage there? Do you think everyone there is like me?”

Haero’s face couldn’t have been any hotter. He couldn’t deny the fact that Yoon Moo-hwa had been indulgent with him all this time.

He might be right. Yoon Moo-hwa was the person who knew him best on Earth, and he also knew a great deal about the Navy. Because he had belonged there his entire life.

That’s precisely why he felt defiant, and why it became a deep wound.

To hide that wound, Haero, who had only just turned twenty but was still naive, could only act out of spite.

It wasn’t just spite. It was his ten years.

It was unbearable to have that time, himself, denied by the person who knew him best.

“Then you should have said so earlier! That I didn’t need to struggle so hard to follow a path that doesn’t suit me!” Finally, Haero leaned towards Yoon Moo-hwa and shouted.

Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t move a muscle. He just kept looking ahead. “Children’s dreams change every day. I thought your mind would change.”

“You knew I entered the special advancement class…”

There was no response. A dreadful feeling crept in. Haero asked again in a trembling voice, “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know.”

It felt like there was a ringing in his ears. Not in his ears, but in his head.

“I deliberately didn’t listen to stories about your school. If I did that…” Yoon Moo-hwa slightly furrowed his brow.

He was curious. He wanted to know. It would have been a simple matter. Receiving reports on Haero’s every move would have been a pleasure in his life at sea. But the reason he didn’t, despite feeling a strong desire to, was because it felt too… bizarre.

He often hesitated in front of Haero. Haero might not know, but he did. The very fact that he would derive pleasure from knowing his every move felt quite creepy, and the fact that he deeply contemplated whether to ignore this desire became the catalyst for Yoon Moo-hwa to cut off his information line about Haero.

But he couldn’t explain all this to Haero. Trying to put it into words made the feeling even more bizarre.

“I’ve only thought about this path from the beginning.”

What Yoon Moo-hwa had unilaterally decided as consideration felt to Haero like just a stubborn distance.

He even felt a sense of betrayal. Haero muttered with a pale face, “All I thought about was being on the same ship as you. I wanted to… to be a sibling you could be proud of…”

…Is that really it? Was that all? A sibling to be proud of? That’s something he’s only thought of now. He’s not Yoon Moo-hwa’s sibling. There’s no way he could dream of such a position.

His chest stung. For the first time in his life, Haero was lying to Yoon Moo-hwa. But he didn’t even know what he was trying to hide with this lie.

Unlike Yoon Moo-hwa, who felt discomfort at the shape his impulses took when he tried to explain them, the more Haero spoke, the less he understood his own heart. He was confused. The simple desire to be on the same ship that he had harbored for 10 years had changed into something unrecognizable even to Haero, covered in the moss, sand, calluses, and attachments of time.

“Because of me,” Yoon Moo-hwa muttered.

He snickered and then turned to look at Haero.

They were in a parking lot now. Thanks to the soft lighting of the parking lot, he could see Yoon Moo-hwa’s face more clearly.

He wasn’t sure if that was fortunate or unfortunate.

“I didn’t bring you from there hoping your future would be decided because of me.”

“……”

“You want to be on a ship because of me…” Yoon Moo-hwa fiddled with his e-cigarette. “How are we any different from the children there who wanted to get on pirate ships to be recognized as adults, the adults who encouraged such dreams, and us now?”

Haero felt as if all the blood in his body had drained to his feet.

After a moment of silence, light returned to Yoon Moo-hwa’s eyes, which had been deep and gloomy with self-deprecation.

He looked at Haero with an expression of sudden realization and clicked his tongue. It was a slip of the tongue. This was definitely a mistake. Uncharacteristically emotional for him.

“This is…”

Yoon Moo-hwa tried to apologize for the slip, but Haero was faster. 

His eyes changed sharply as he stared intently at Yoon Moo-hwa and declared, “This is your fault.”

“……”

“And I don’t regret submitting my application to the Naval Academy. It’s your fault, so I’m not wrong.”

He couldn’t argue against such a dichotomous conclusion because of what he had just said.

Before Yoon Moo-hwa could say that he couldn’t agree with his admission regardless of his slip of the tongue, Haero quickly got out of the car.