GBH 15

As the new year dawned, Choi Se-kyung did not board the plane to Canada. The surface reason was wanting to focus on college entrance exams as a high school senior, but the real cause was his poor condition since the night he failed to find Song Yi-heon. Rather than going out and being unable to process his emotions properly, he chose to avoid meeting people under the guise of studying.

Only when he went to report to the police station did Se-kyung realize how little he knew about Song Yi-heon. His name, age, and school were all he knew. These were things he inevitably knew from being at the same school, but he knew nothing personal like his phone number or address. Though he completed the report at the police’s urging, among the numerous year-end incidents, a report with incomplete personal information was overlooked. Se-kyung, being neither family nor friend, received no news about Song Yi-heon from the police.

Among the flood of messages heating up his phone, none were about Song Yi-heon. Not just Se-kyung, but only Hong Jae-min’s group among their schoolmates knew Yi-heon’s contact information. He tried indirectly asking other friends if Hong Jae-min’s group was still bothering Yi-heon, but they too had only heard that contact with Yi-heon was lost.

In any case, Se-kyung had no point of contact with Song Yi-heon. It was just Yi-heon’s one-sided crush, and if anything, Se-kyung was closer to being a stalking victim. But those eyes were the problem. Those wounded eyes on that rainy day had wormed their way into the crevices of Se-kyung’s consciousness.

“Did you get a girlfriend?”

“Pardon?”

Startled by the sudden question, Se-kyung looked up from stirring his soup. Across the neatly set breakfast table, his mother picked up a side dish and continued casually.

“You seem out of it lately, so I thought you might have gotten a girlfriend.”

As vice president of a major department store in Seoul, she was busier than ever during the New Year’s rush, but she still made sure not to neglect her only son. Except for the fact that his family wasn’t exactly upright, it was a harmonious family with good relationships between the couple and mother and son. Se-kyung put down his spoon with a picture-perfect smile.

“No way. I’m too busy studying.”

“Don’t work too hard. The department store will be yours anyway.”

“Dad would have a fit if he heard that.”

The barbed joke made both mother and son chuckle simultaneously. Their similar faces crinkled with nearly identical smiles. Choi Se-kyung took after his maternal side not just in looks but in personality, sharing many traits with his mother. Se-kyung changed the subject to divert attention from himself.

“Dad seems busy these days. It’s hard to see him.”

Asking about the breakfast table set for just two, Se-kyung’s mother shook her head as if to say ‘don’t even mention it’.

“Apparently, an influential person in one of Seoul’s gang organizations died. A traffic accident, they say… So there’s a turf war going on, and he’s busy. Isn’t it ridiculous? They’re just gangsters after all. I wonder if they even pay taxes.”

Having finished preparing for work, she spoke sparingly to avoid smudging her lipstick while sipping her soup. Se-kyung didn’t probe further. News of gangsters he’d never met reached his ears, yet no word came of Song Yi-heon’s whereabouts, which he actually wanted to know. Se-kyung suddenly frowned. He had been trying not to think about it, but he was conscious of Song Yi-heon again.

“Oh, by the way, your grandfather’s been admitted to the hospital. Make time to visit. I’ll go after work too. He’s at Central Hospital—ask Ye-hee for the room number.”

“Grandfather’s hospitalized? What happened?”

Though not particularly curious about his grandfather’s health, Se-kyung put down his spoon and showed interest. He pretended to be a concerned grandson, but his mind was filled with Song Yi-heon’s eyes, brimming with resentment.

This winter was unusually devoid of snow. A documentary about melting Arctic ice as evidence of annual climate warming aired, but Se-kyung, uninterested in environmental issues, didn’t care whether it rained or snowed. He only sent halfhearted sympathy to the displaced polar bears. But this year, regardless of the polar bears’ situation, he developed a definite dislike for rain.

He wasn’t thrilled that this too was a trauma caused by Song Yi-heon.

Se-kyung entered the building and went down to the basement bookstore. The store still had Christmas decorations mixed with New Year’s prosperity-themed ornaments. As he entered through the automatic doors, the heater’s warm air made him rub his dry face while navigating between the shelves.

He planned to buy an essay collection by his grandfather’s favorite author as a get-well gift. Being a lesser-known Japanese writer without much promotion, it took a while to find the new release despite its recent publication.

With hands in his coat pockets, Se-kyung carefully scanned the shelves and finally found the essay collection. He straightened his back, which had been bent while searching. As his view rose, he saw something previously hidden. A boy was making a mess of the bestseller display beyond the bookshelf.

Dragging along an IV stand with a needle stuck in the back of his hand, the boy was leafing through every workbook on display, as if he didn’t know which one to choose. Despite the nearby employee throwing him a glance, the boy, with his short-cropped hair, remained focused on the open workbooks.

Forgetting all about grabbing the essay collection, Se-kyung hurried around the display. His rarely excited eyes lit up. The boy’s back looked just like Song Yi-heon’s.

***

Avoiding the sun-drenched playground, students gathered in the auditorium, sitting in rows before a vaulting horse. Though glad to be out of the sun, they disliked PE class and hugged their knees with sullen expressions. They wanted to suggest self-study but had to wait their turn quietly since it was part of the performance evaluation.

“Next, number 12! Get ready!”

The PE teacher, still wearing sunglasses indoors, called the next number. Song Yi-heon, previously hidden behind a bulky classmate, stood up, steadying himself with a hand on his knee. The teacher, who had just grudgingly scored the barely successful jump of number 11, checked who number 12 was and didn’t expect much.

The PE teacher had taught Song Yi-heon’s class last year too. He only thought it remarkable that the pale, weak Song Yi-heon, who often sat in the shaded stands or went to the nurse’s office, was even participating in class. Expecting the lowest score, he readied his pen on the scorecard and put the whistle to his lips.

Tweet!

Blowing the starting whistle, the PE teacher couldn’t believe his eyes and took off his sunglasses. Yi-heon ran and cleared the vaulting horse with perfect form. He vaulted cleanly and efficiently, landing stably on the other side. Applause broke out among the students, and even the PE teacher, tucking his attendance book under his arm, clapped while exclaiming in admiration.

“Wow, Song Yi-heon. Did you get special training during winter break?”

The original Yi-heon wasn’t bad at sports, just weakened by lack of sleep, poor appetite, and accumulated fatigue. After fighting with Hong Jae-min’s group, Kim Deuk-pal felt the need to adapt physically and increased his exercise intensity, allowing him to vault just as he’d seen in textbooks.

Seeming shy, Song Yi-heon scratched the back of his head and awkwardly bowed to the PE teacher. Noticing Yi-heon’s changed hairstyle, the teacher added more praise.

“Your new short haircut really suits you! Why were you hiding that handsome face all this time?”

“…Thank you.”

Still socially awkward, Yi-heon couldn’t properly lift his head and returned to his seat, bowing repeatedly. As the 13th student came out and attention shifted, Kim Deuk-pal felt his tension release and buried his forehead between his knees.

He had planned to perform moderately well, thinking that if the uncoordinated Song Yi-heon suddenly became good at sports, it would fuel Choi Se-kyung’s burning suspicions. But hearing that the performance evaluation would affect his grades, he couldn’t slack off.

“Wow!”

Suddenly hearing cheers, Kim Deuk-pal looked up. The students were applauding Choi Se-kyung, who had just vaulted. Though their form was similar, Se-kyung’s long limbs made for a more impressive sight, earning louder applause than Yi-heon had received.

Calmly high-fiving students as he returned to his seat, Se-kyung sat behind Yi-heon. Kim Deuk-pal avoided eye contact with the approaching Se-kyung, pretending to rub the back of his neck.

As soon as the bell rang ending class, Kim Deuk-pal was the first to get up, eager to leave the auditorium. But realizing he’d have to face Se-kyung again in the classroom, he lamented his unexpected life as a fugitive.

If only he knew what Se-kyung had figured out and how much he knew, Kim Deuk-pal could at least come up with a plan. But that sly fox, Se-kyung, hadn’t said a word about it since bringing it up at the café, leaving Kim Deuk-pal in a constant state of anxiety

“To think that guy’s just a high schooler…” he muttered, thinking Se-kyung was more like a nine-tailed fox spirit. As Kim Deuk-pal was about to push open the auditorium door:

“Shit, look at that gay kid run.”

A mocking voice raised behind him, followed by encouraging laughter. As Kim Deuk-pal turned to look, he saw a bleached blonde head glaring at him.

“Going to change clothes alone so you don’t get horny?”

Apparently annoyed that only Song Yi-heon had escaped punishment for their fight while they got stuck with school service, Hong Jae-min glared at Yi-heon whenever he could. He seized the chance to provoke him while the PE teacher was in the equipment room having boys put away the vaulting horse.

The original Song Yi-heon would have been mortified with no one to turn to for help, but not Kim Deuk-pal. He actually welcomed Jae-min’s provocation and rushed towards him.

Hong Jae-min flinched as Yi-heon approached eagerly after his taunt. He expected Song Yi-heon to be less scared but still affected, yet Yi-heon seemed to be looking around, not even noticing Hong Jae-min.

For some reason, this was extremely unpleasant. Realizing he had no impact on SOng Yi-heon, Hong Jae-min’s temper flared and he clenched his fist. In such moments, Hong Jae-min typically lost control and rushed into fights. Unaware of his impending beating, Song Yi-heon walked right up to him. Hong Jae-min’s knuckles whitened on the fist hidden behind his back, ready to strike first.

“Ugh-!”

Hong Jae-min thought Yi-heon was distracted, looking at the equipment room the teacher had entered. But the moment he raised his fist, a kick to his shin brought Jae-min down. No matter how tough, a high schooler was no match for a gangster seasoned in street fights.

“You little brat, looking down on adults so disrespectfully.”

Kim Deuk-pal muttered just loud enough for Hong Jae-min to hear, then solidly smacked the back of Jae-min’s head. Gasps arose from those around.

“Hey, punk, did me being gay ever cause you any problems? Don’t act tough with your tiny d1ck. Yours wouldn’t even get me hard. You think gay guys don’t have standards?”

With Hong Jae-min too dazed from the blow to the head to respond, Kim Deuk-pal wrapped an arm around his neck. As Jae-min struggled, sticking his butt out to escape the shorter Yi-heon’s grip, Kim Deuk-pal tightened his hold. Ignoring Jae-min’s reddening face, he craned his neck to check the equipment room.

Choi Se-kyung was coming out. He was laughing with a friend who had helped move the vaulting horse, but upon spotting Yi-heon, his smile changed nature. It was a smile too affectionate for mere friends. As Se-kyung raised his hand to call Yi-heon, making eye contact, Kim Deuk-pal panicked and pulled Jae-min closer.

“Going to the school store? Yeah, okay. Let’s go to the store.”

“Hey, fu- let g- urk…I can’t… breathe…”

Ignoring Hong Jae-min’s protests, Kim Deuk-pal forcefully dragged him away, desperate to avoid getting caught by Se-kyung. They bolted as fast as they could.