GB 49

At that time, Haero couldn’t understand Yoon Moo-hwa’s words.

It was the same now. Seeing Haero’s stubborn face that showed he still didn’t understand, Tan Shui added an explanation, “Even if they liked each other, feelings can change. Whether it’s the military, school, or workplace, getting romantically involved isn’t great. Well, there are also those who just want to satisfy their lust in a win-win situation.”

While saying this, Tan Shui hinted that he actually had such a relationship himself.

However, Haero wasn’t interested at all in who Tan Shui had that kind of relationship with.

The phrase “they liked each other” bothered him more.

‘Liking someone.’

Haero was confused. He likes Yoon Moo-hwa. Of course, he knew there were various meanings to the emotion of “liking.” However, Haero had never liked anything about Yoon Moo-hwa other than the breakfast he prepared and the lunch they ate together, so he didn’t know how to distinguish that emotion.

So Haero dissected and analyzed it as if studying.

Unable to concentrate on his classes, he broke it down piece by piece. Favorite foods, music, places. Everything had one thread in common.

And finally, what remained, what couldn’t belong to any category, was unique.

Yoon Moo-hwa.

“Yoon Moo-hwa.”

Haero dismantled that name letter by letter, like the characters written on Yoon Moo-hwa’s dog tag. 

ㅇㅠㄴㅁㅜㅎㅗㅏ(Yoon Moo-hwa).

Wanting to be with him, wanting to know about the times of that person he didn’t know, distinguishing and responding to that person’s unfamiliar scent.

Haero realized his feelings intellectually.

It was a feeling he could never have realized until he suddenly saw his surroundings in a new light.

Because that was Haero’s world.

“Tan Shui, someone’s looking for you.”

Tan Shui, who had just finished washing up, went out into the hallway at his roommate’s call.

It was Haero waiting for him. He could have come inside to wait, but he was stubbornly standing in the hallway.

Haero was deep in thought, holding a personal tablet in his hand, and hadn’t noticed Tan Shui coming out.

Tan Shui suppressed a laugh at the sight of Haero standing there absentmindedly with just a tablet in hand, a scene that seemed ill-fitting for a cadet who had come of age.

‘Just like a lost child.’

Although Haero had some childlike aspects, he was far from actually being childish. His grades were excellent, and he often scored high points in virtual human-to-human training exercises that cadets frequently struggled with. Even if it was virtual, Haero’s precise movements in inflicting injuries that would render an opponent’s arms or legs immobile but alive during those trainings were sometimes chilling to watch.

But seeing how he asked questions today, his inability to control his alcohol intake as if drinking for the first time, and his struggle to get along with others, he did seem childlike.

When such a Haero approached him first to ask something or seek help, Tan Shui couldn’t help but feel a bit proud.

Tan Shui approached Haero and asked casually, “What’s up?”

Haero looked up, said “Ah,” and held out his tablet. “Your roommate is the one who played that adult video at the social gathering before, right?”

‘Adult video.’

Tan Shui had to make a greater effort to suppress his laughter, “Yeah. Why? Curious? Want to see it?”

Tan Shui asked jokingly, not really expecting that’s what Haero had come for, but Haero immediately nodded, “Yes. I’m trying to watch it, but I can’t find it no matter how much I search. Can you maybe borrow your roommate’s device for me?”

“You can’t find it? Maybe something’s blocked? Until then, Tan Shui thought it was just a matter of pop-ups being blocked.

“Can I take a look?”

Haero hesitated slightly before handing his device to Tan Shui.

Tan Shui frowned as he tried various searches, seeing screens where similar search terms brought up different information or where search results didn’t appear at all.

After a few more attempts, Tan Shui found the reason. “There’s a kids lock on this?”

It was a reason he hadn’t even considered. Who would think a twenty-year-old man’s electronic device would have a kids lock? 

Tan Shui’s voice was thick with disbelief, “How old are you?”

“Twenty.” Haero answered promptly, though the question wasn’t meant to be answered literally.

“No, that’s not what I… Never mind. Did anyone else touch this? Who gave access permissions?”

“…”

Sensing the incredulity in Tan Shui’s voice, Haero didn’t mention that Yoon Moo-hwa had set it up.

Tan Shui, still chuckling in disbelief, found Haero’s account information and brought up the authentication screen. He held up the tablet to verify Haero’s retina. Soon, the kids lock was removed. The fact that it could be easily disabled with just biometric data was clear evidence that Haero was indeed an adult.

‘A kid locks on an adult. This was no joke.’

Tan Shui, his face deeply furrowed, accessed a site and handed it to Haero. “Isn’t Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa being too indifferent to you? He should have removed this by now. Problematic videos are deleted in real-time anyway.”

“He’s not being indifferent… How did you know it was hyu- I mean, Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa who did it?”

“Who doesn’t know that?” Tan Shui crossed his arms and sneered, “You’re famous.”

Again. Again, Yoon Moo-hwa’s name appears alongside his own. It’s Haero’s sore spot.

“That’s why I’m being careful with my conduct. Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa isn’t being indifferent, and don’t associate my every action with him.” Haero threatened. 

The atmosphere turned menacing, as if he really wouldn’t let it slide. 

Tan Shui snorted, “You think we have that much time? That we think of him every time we see you? And it’s not like there’s only one colonel in the navy, even if there aren’t many. There are plenty of guys with more impressive backgrounds than you.”

Tan Shui felt this was a good opportunity to properly warn Haero, “It’s not that his name keeps coming up, it’s your name that keeps coming up, Cadet Haero. The cadet is quite noticeable. If you didn’t know, you should. …Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa is famous enough, so stop getting all fired up every time his name is mentioned.”

Haero was indeed noticeable. It wasn’t just because of his striking appearance that stood out wherever he was. It was because with such looks, his practical training scores were better than most others. And it wasn’t that he was bad at other subjects either. Interest breeds jealousy, jealousy breeds discontent, and discontent becomes a lens for finding faults.

Haero’s appearance was, in fact, a weakness for ‘Cadet Haero’. The reason this weakness hadn’t been picked apart was partly due to strict regulations, but also clearly due to the protective barrier of Yoon Moo-hwa. Tan Shui’s statement that they don’t have enough time to think of that person every time they see Haero was a lie meant to comfort him.

However, there are always those who disregard barriers. No, there are even crazies whose eyes light up at the challenge of higher difficulty. What worried Tan Shui was that there were no obvious crazies here. If you could spot them at first glance, they’d be decently crazy.

Tan Shui felt worried about Haero, seeing him almost like a younger brother. What if Haero had asked someone else, and that person happened to be a hidden true psycho and a pervert? It would be problematic not just for Haero, but the whole school would be in an uproar. 

So Tan Shui advised him seriously, “Don’t ask anyone else about this kind of thing anymore.”

Normally, he would have spoken more boastfully and teasingly, but not this time. Somehow, the existence of the “kids lock” kept nagging at a corner of his mind. Perhaps because of this, he found it hard to speak freely, feeling as if Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa was standing right behind Haero.

‘Why doesn’t he remove the kids’ lock? What a strange person. Unless he’s completely indifferent…’

No. He didn’t want to think about it any deeper.

Suddenly feeling tired, Tan Shui pushed Haero’s back, “Anyway, I’m going to bed. So go and have fun or whatever, it’s up to you. Oh! And don’t come telling me which one you liked best. I’m not interested in Cadet Haero’s tastes.”

He knew Yoon Moo-hwa’s face. If tomorrow Haero were to show him a video saying “This was the best,” and if any character in it resembled Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa even slightly in appearance or build, it would surely make for an unsettling night’s sleep.

Born as the youngest, Tan Shui had always been in the position of a shrimp getting its back broken in fights between his older brothers. Thanks to his naturally developed perceptiveness, he had acquired the talent of being the first to step away when things started to get complicated.

Pushed by Tan Shui’s hand, Haero was almost chased to the end of the corridor, and only after a while did he mutter, “Kids lock…?”

To cut to the chase, Haero stayed up all night that day.

He watched adult videos all night and didn’t get excited once during that time. He couldn’t understand which part, or why, other people found pleasure in watching others’ intimate acts.

Instead, he only realized that the memories of adults fighting on the island when he was young were actually not fights at all.

After taking a shower, Haero lay down on the bed to catch a bit of sleep.

He couldn’t understand the pleasure those acts gave. 

‘Wasn’t touching yourself enough?’

After tossing and turning for a while, Haero finally turned on the radio Yoon Moo-hwa had given him as a gift. The sound of waves filled the room.

And then he dreamed.

For a long time, he hadn’t dreamed and always slept deeply, but not anymore.

He often dreamed now, and at some point, the protagonist became not the sea, but Yoon Moo-hwa.

Haero swam with Yoon Moo-hwa like jellyfish in the sea where he could breathe freely. After repeatedly coming together and drifting apart several times, he hugged Yoon Moo-hwa tightly. Afraid of being carried too far by the current and never finding him again, he clung to him, and as he did so, he felt like he was really becoming gelatinous like a jellyfish, gradually starting to become one with him.

When everything except their faces had melded into one, Haero tilted his head back, stretched his now non-existent toes, and woke up having a wet dream while calling Yoon Moo-hwa’s name.

The vivid and detailed dream in which he recalled every single scar on Yoon Moo-hwa’s body pointed to one thing. Haero had dreamed of mixing bodies with Yoon Moo-hwa. It was just that they had become jellyfish because he had never seen the other’s genitals.

Haero panted, his face as white as a sheet, as if he had had a terrible nightmare.

The only stumbling block was that he hadn’t seen the genitals. The fact that no disgust or discomfort remained after the dream was because his heart had already been pointing in one direction for a while. 

Like waves always moving towards where the moon rises.