GBH 21

After the attending physician arrived and confirmed that Song Min-seo had collapsed from crying, Kim Deuk-pal went upstairs. Choi Se-kyung had been standing on the staircase, gazing at Song Min-seo and Song Yi-heon until then. In a state of shock, he forgot his manners, replaying the moment when Kim Deuk-pal had embraced Song Min-seo.

Kim Deuk-pal snatched his bag from Se-kyung’s hand.

“Why didn’t you wait in the room instead of watching?”

This wasn’t the kind of scene you’d expect from a typical household. Kim Deuk-pal assumed that was why Se-kyung was so stunned. Se-kyung’s voice cracked, still strained.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not something you need to apologize for.”

However, Se-kyung’s stiffness wasn’t due to witnessing the shocking disturbance. It was the way Kim Deuk-pal had comforted the fragile Song Min-seo that shook him, like discovering the exit to a maze he had been wandering in for too long.

Se-kyung had almost obsessively searched for Song Yi-heon, yet he didn’t know what he truly wanted. He had earnestly considered whether he might have developed feelings for Song Yi-heon, setting aside his prejudices, but he couldn’t label it as love. There was no fluttering heart or excitement; instead, it was a feeling akin to guilt.

The memory of Song Yi-heon’s final moments, threatening him on a rainy day, didn’t leave Se-kyung in peace. Thus, he vaguely resolved to find and help Song Yi-heon, but he lacked a clear plan of action.

However, watching Kim Deuk-pal embrace and comfort Song Min-seo, who cried similarly to ‘the original Song Yi-heon,’ Se-kyung realized what he truly wanted.

Se-kyung had wanted to embrace Song Yi-heon like that.

Se-kyung touched his forehead and stood up straight. Because he couldn’t do that, he had wandered through that winter with lingering feverish thoughts, stumbling through the following spring in doubt, arriving at this point.

As Kim Deuk-pal ascended the stairs in the front, he glanced back when Se-kyung didn’t follow.

“Don’t regret wasting time. I distinctly remember suggesting we do this elsewhere, but you insisted on coming home.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then, whatever.”

Kim Deuk-pal gestured for Choi Se-kyung to enter first as he opened the door. Se-kyung rubbed his weary face with the hand that had been resting on his forehead before climbing the remaining stairs and stepping into the room.

Inside, it was ordinary, not much different from any other high school student’s room. Apart from various exercise equipment neatly arranged near the full-length mirror in the corner, giving it a gym-like feel, there was nothing particularly remarkable. The fact that the skinny Song Yi-heon had equipped his room with exercise gear was suspicious, but Deuk-pal acted as if it were perfectly normal.

“Feel free to look around. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

After saying that, Deuk-pal moved to the built-in closet and began removing his shirt. It was soaked not just with sweat but also with tears from Song Min-seo, making both the shirt and undershirt damp. Crossing his arms, he took off the wet shirt to reveal a dry T-shirt underneath. As he moved to put on a sleeveless T-shirt, his spine and shoulder blades jutted out with the movement.

Se-kyung found it absurd that the room’s owner changed clothes without hesitation, even with a guest present. Thinking that the usual Song Yi-heon would have been more considerate and changed elsewhere, he put down his bag to proceed with his purpose for coming.

He glanced at the titles of books on the bookshelf. Although he had opened and searched through every wardrobe and drawer, there was no sign of kidnapping or confinement. When he checked under the bed by lying down, he heard a train-like laughter, causing Se-kyung’s cheeks to twitch slightly. Se-kyung couldn’t shake off his suspicions. The detached house was spacious, offering plenty of places to hide someone.

As if reading Se-kyung’s thoughts, Kim Deuk-pal, now dressed comfortably, unfolded a folding table in the center of the room and spoke,

“Before you leave, search thoroughly—garage, basement, everything.”

Se-kyung’s confident search, assured that there was nothing shocking to be found, made him seem foolish. Se-kyung chewed his lip in apparent irritation, while Kim Deuk-pal, with a grin that seemed mocking, appeared amused. Feeling mocked, Se-kyung stopped his search and sat cross-legged on the other side of the folding table.

By now, Se-kyung wondered if he was overreacting to a point like someone on the verge of a mental breakdown. At home, at school, even the housekeeper—everyone, including Song Yi-heon’s own mother—had accepted the “changed” Song Yi-heon. Only Choi Se-kyung, a complete outsider, was still suspicious.

However, Se-kyung couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge Song Yi-heon’s change. He had lived his entire life under his father’s surveillance, unable to alter his inherent temperament. Thus, the idea that Song Yi-heon could change his innate disposition in just one season was unbelievable.

Could the others really not sense anything strange? Was it because the ‘changed’ Song Yi-heon was more likable and easier to be around? The ‘changed’ Song Yi-heon had solved problems in ways the ‘original’ Song Yi-heon never could have. So why would anyone go through the trouble of searching for the troublesome ‘original’?

As Se-kyung’s thoughts reached this point, he suddenly lifted his head. Kim Deuk-pal, who had been resting his chin on his raised arm, smirked.

“Why not search more thoroughly? What if the real Song Yi-heon is locked up in the basement, tied up?”

“…”

The overt malice in response to the vicious joke was evident. Se-kyung’s gaze turned fierce, his tall frame and broad, solid shoulders became all the more intimidating.

So, Choi Se-kyung could make such a face. His fierce gaze was quite effective. Kim Deuk-pal observed with interest b but quickly lost the urge to tease him, pushing the mock exam paper toward Se-kyung instead. The guy who used to walk around with a foolish grin now displayed a surprising range of expressions when they were alone, but Kim Deuk-pal’s amusement faded just as quickly.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up. Try solving this. Are you good at other subjects?”

“I’m better than you.”

Teasing might be fun for the one doing it, but it’s always the worst for the one on the receiving end. Se-kyung didn’t relax the tension in his eyes. Kim Deuk-pal had attempted to find it amusing when he teased, but his opponent was Choi Se-kyung. Someone with a fierce obsession and tightly controlled temper when it came to Song Yi-heon—he coldly snapped back.

“You’re getting cocky.”

“Why do you call me cocky when it’s something you can’t do, Yi-heon-ah? Oh, wait, you’re not Yi-heon, are you? What should I call you then? Kidnapper? Identity thief? Tell me, so we can keep things casual.”

Seeing that his provocation had successfully irritated Deuk-pal, Se-kyung escalated.

“What should I do now that I know you’ve got the real Song Yi-heon tied up in the basement? It must be a hassle to move him somewhere else. The police will show up tonight. Or will you try to kill me first?”

As Se-kyung’s muscles relaxed, his lips curled into a mocking smile. The crimson light of the late afternoon sunset tinged his white school uniform, and as his shadowed face leaned over the table, his tone turned more sinister.

“How does it feel to live someone else’s life?”

It was a soft whisper. Seeing the fake Song Yi-heon falter as if struck, Se-kyung’s voice resonated low and deep.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Did you like playing schoolboy?”

“This bastard…”

The words came out through clenched teeth, seething with barely contained fury. Living someone else’s life—that was the very guilt Kim Deuk-pal had been wrestling with, ever since he took over Song Yi-heon’s body. Unintentionally, Se-kyung had hit a nerve, and the more enraged Kim Deuk-pal became, the broader Se-kyung’s smile grew.

“Did it feel good, taking what rightfully belongs to Song Yi-heon?”

No, it didn’t feel good. No matter how much he had wanted to go to school, there was no satisfaction in living out the life of a poor, innocent soul like Song Yi-heon. Getting caught up in the accident that Yi-heon caused, trying to exact revenge, even occupying this young boy’s body—all of it weighed on him like a heavy burden of guilt.

However, just because he felt guilty didn’t mean he was willing to accept Se-kyung’s accusations. Kim Deuk-pal reached out his arm.

“…!”

Before Se-kyung knew it, his tie was grabbed, and as he was pulled forward, he instinctively braced against the table. But Kim Deuk-pal had already wrapped the tie around his palm, yanking Se-kyung down onto the table, pinning him close.

Thud! With his elbow, he slammed the table down, drawing Se-kyung close enough for their noses to almost touch.

“Enough with the nonsense.”

The warning came with a fierce resonance in his throat. The distance between them was so close that Se-kyung could see the sharp, dark lines cutting through Kim Deuk-pal’s brown irises. The seething anger pouring from the “changed” Song Yi-heon was palpable, prickling Se-kyung’s skin.

Se-kyung had expected to be hit. After provoking him like that, he was sure a punch was coming, just like when Kim Deuk-pal had beaten Hong Jae-min. Clenching his teeth, Se-kyung braced himself for the blow.

Instead, a sharp knock landed on his forehead. Momentarily dazed, Se-kyung blinked in confusion. Kim Deuk-pal, having bumped his forehead against Se-kyung’s, took a deep breath, his ribs rising and falling. The fury that had roiled in his brown eyes was now hidden behind closed lids.

“Whatever you say, I am Song Yi-heon.”

Though he was struggling to remain composed, the tension in his hand pulling on Se-kyung’s tie betrayed his anger, the bones in his wrist protruding sharply.

Damn, kid. A child, barely old enough to be considered an adult. Big in stature, yes, but still a child. Calm down. It’s ridiculous to get seriously angry at a kid.

Kim Deuk-pal integrally suppressed his emotions countless times. Twisting the tie around his neck, he could subdue this timid child, though restraining himself would drive him mad. Fortunately, being in Song Yi-heon’s body meant he didn’t have to worry about blood pressure. Kim Deuk-pal calmed himself to some extent and opened his eyes.

“Just wait.”

His calm tone came with a soft breath, close enough to be felt. The proximity, with their foreheads still touching, made Se-kyung unconsciously pull his lips inward, biting them. But Deuk-pal, staring intently into Se-kyung’s black pupils, continued seriously.

“If you wait, everything will turn out the way you want. Just be patient.”

When Song Yi-heon’s soul returns, Choi Se-kyung would finally be satisfied. This was the best Kim Deuk-pal could offer.

“…”

Se-kyung hadn’t provoked the fake Song Yi-heon just to hear some vague answer. He wanted to ask more directly—how long would they have to wait? Was Yi-heon unable to return for the time being? Se-kyung desperately wanted to press for more information about Yi-heon’s safety. But with the weight of Kim Deuk-pal’s forehead resting against his and the bitterly downcast eyes, he found himself unable to ask anything at all.