GBH 77

Se-kyung, being sensitive, couldn’t miss the signals Song Yi-heon was indirectly showing, such as smiling bitterly while hesitating, and promising a future where he couldn’t be held responsible if he broke it. As Choi Se-kyung pierced through the truth twice now, following yesterday, Song Yi-heon complained while rubbing his goosebump-covered forearms despite the hot weather.

“How can I even breathe comfortably in front of you? It’s scary.”

At this point, he was suspicious if Se-kyung had some kind of mind-reading ability. If it weren’t for his hurt expression, he would have believed he did have mind-reading powers.

“You said you’d leave when Song Yi-heon returns.”

Se-kyung looked pitiful like an abandoned child, even after guessing correctly. If he was like this now, how devastated would he be when Kim Deuk-pal’s soul ascended and left him alone? Choi Se-kyung was the only one who knew the soul of Kim Deuk-pal living in Song Yi-heon’s body. If Kim Deuk-pal ascended, Se-kyung would have to suffer the loss of being left alone.

And that too, the loss of a loved one.

Until now, he had treated Se-kyung’s feelings lightly. He had complacently thought that since young people are usually fickle, Choi Se-kyung would soon like another girl, but after hearing Se-kyung’s true feelings, he felt the need to clarify things decisively.

As Song Yi-heon cleared his throat with a “Ahem, ahem,” Se-kyung blinked his long eyelashes.

“Ahem, hey. I know liking someone isn’t something you can control, so I wasn’t going to say much. I’m grateful for all your help too. When you’re your age, you’re full of vigor and might mistake friendship for, you know, li-li-liking someone…”

At the ‘liking’ part, Song Yi-heon buried his face in his palms, seeming troubled. The skin he rubbed roughly with his palms in a dry face wash grew hot from friction.

“So I was going to let you sort it out on your own, but now I need to make things clear.”

His gaze, which had been avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment while speaking, now met his directly.

“Give up on me. You and I can’t be together anyway.”

“Why not?”

“First of all, I’m not gay. I can’t feel anything more than friendship for a guy. And, and…”

This time, beyond being troubled, feeling self-loathing for having to say such things, Song Yi-heon buried his face in his palms again and mumbled as if avoiding the issue.

“…You’re too young.”

Se-kyung, who somehow understood, rebutted. He was prepared for gender being an obstacle, but using age as a barrier was just making an absurd excuse.

“We’re the same age. If I’m young, then you’re also- Ah.”

Se-kyung’s lips parted with a flash of realization. It was something he hadn’t thought of because the hypothesis of another soul entering Song Yi-heon’s body was shocking in itself.

“We’re not the same age, are we?”

Once he realized it, it made sense. The change in Song Yi-heon’s behavior wasn’t childish. Even if there were naive aspects, it was similar to a foreigner’s fascinated reaction to a different culture, not innocence from not knowing the ways of the world. Rather, hadn’t Choi Se-kyung been attracted to how he easily solved problems?

Se-kyung didn’t know who the soul inside Song Yi-heon’s body was, but he could be certain of one thing. The soul in Song Yi-heon’s body was older. He asked seriously.

“How old are you?”

“…”

“You must be older than me…”

When Song Yi-heon remained silent, Se-kyung had no choice but to think on his own. Being older wasn’t a flaw, but his reluctance suggested a big age gap… After pondering deeply, Se-kyung carefully asked, worried it might be rude.

“You’re not… elderly, are you?”

This is the era of centenarians after all. Se-kyung, as a modern person, considered a wide range of ages.

“…”

Surely he couldn’t be elderly? Although he occasionally showed signs of being older, he didn’t seem like a very old grandfather. However, Song Yi-heon neither confirmed nor denied it.

“Don’t ask.”

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being much older, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell Choi Se-kyung. Song Yi-heon snapped and then opened the cup noodle lid to prevent any further discussion about age. Hot steam spread out, and the noodles, left for more than 3 minutes, were swollen. He stirred the noodles with chopsticks and took a bite, chewing appetizingly

When Song Yi-heon responded like that, Se-kyung couldn’t ask any more and just stirred his white noodles, but suddenly answered politely.

“Yes, hyung.”

“Pfft-!”

The noodle broth sprayed everywhere, but Se-kyung calmly took a tissue and wiped the broth that had splattered on him. After wiping his lower face, he checked the red spots on the tissue, folded it, and pushed it under the pile of trash gathered in the middle of the parasol.

Song Yi-heon, who had choked, glared at Se-kyung while coughing with a red face. He reluctantly accepted the bottled water Se-kyung opened and handed to him, drinking it while still glaring at him.

“…You’re being cheeky again.”

As Song Yi-heon, who had finally stopped coughing, growled, Se-kyung smiled meekly and wagged his non-existent tail. His polite speech sounded like a yapping fox.

“No way. I haven’t been sassy to you, hyung, since getting hit at the spring.”

“You seem confident because you guessed a few things right, but you’ll get hurt that way.”

He warned him, deliberately lowering his voice, but it had no effect.

“What do I know? I’m just following you around because I like you, hyung.”

Whether he liked the ‘hyung’ title or was enjoying teasing Song Yi-heon, Se-kyung pushed aside his cup noodles and faced Song Yi-heon properly, resting his chin on his hand. Then he bit his thin lips, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Am I not good enough?”

Choi Se-kyung, deliberately coming on to him, was full of mischief like a boy his age. The heat of the summer night added vitality to his eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“I’m well-behaved and listen to you well, hyung. I do what I’m told well. Also, um-.”

Se-kyung tapped his cheek with his index finger. He tilted his head slightly towards Song Yi-heon, who was dumbfounded by his ability to speak politely without a hint of respect.

“Is my face not to your liking?”

At the young kid’s provocation, Song Yi-heon felt dizzy as if hit in a vital spot.

* * *

Song Yi-heon, who had barely made it to class on time, greeted his classmates and put his bag down at his seat. However, Se-kyung was sitting in his seat, so he grumbled and kicked Se-kyung’s leg with his foot. Se-kyung stopped organizing his notebook.

“What are you doing in my seat?”

“Let’s switch seats. The teacher won’t say anything if desk mates switch, so sit on the inside.”

Se-kyung’s seat by the window was less likely to be caught by teachers if one dozed off during class than Song Yi-heon’s seat by the aisle. Being somewhat hidden by Se-kyung’s shoulder, he wouldn’t be caught if he just rested his chin well. It was better to switch for various reasons, but because Choi Se-kyung had been so pushy lately, Song Yi-heon was reluctant to follow his suggestion and stubbornly resisted for a moment before pretending to give in and sitting in Se-kyung’s seat. There was no fighting fatigue.

Unlike Song Yi-heon, who used his bag as a pillow and lay down, Se-kyung, who had also stayed up all night, continued organizing his notebook with his usual face.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“More or less?”

“You’ve got good stamina.”

Choi Se-kyung was relatively fine since he had only stayed up for two nights – when being chased by gangsters and eating ramen at the convenience store – but Song Yi-heon, who had been on stakeout for over a week, said with a long yawn:

“Don’t follow me from today on. I’m warning you.”

With tears at the corners of his eyes while trying to look fierce, he resembled a baby predator.

“Stay at home. It’s dangerous. Man, how much do you think your parents worry about you, that’s what I’m saying, yawn-.”

He was trying to give some proper advice as an adult after a long time, but this damn yawn was causing trouble. He tried to hold it back for fear of looking undignified, but there was no way to overcome accumulated fatigue. As Song Yi-heon didn’t resist his closing eyelids, a voice like a lullaby settled:

“Don’t worry about me. I’m younger than you, hyung. Even if I have to run away, I’d be better at it than you.”

“Hey, you…!”

Song Yi-heon, suddenly wide awake, lifted his cheek from his bag and looked around. Fortunately, the homeroom teacher hadn’t arrived yet, so the classroom was noisy with kids running around, and the desks in front of and behind them were empty, but just in case, Song Yi-heon put his hand on Se-kyung’s shoulder and pressed down, threatening in his ear.

“Stop harping on age.”

However, Se-kyung changed the subject as if encouraging him:

“It’s okay. Is being older a flaw? It’s my fault for being born late.”

“If you say one more word, you’re really going to get it.”

Se-kyung, who knew when to push and when to back off, ended the teasing with a kind look. After continuing to organize her notebook for a while, she opened her mouth as smoothly as a gliding pen tip.

“I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

Here’s the English translation:

Song Yi-heon was lying face down, resting his head on his arm stretched out so that his wrist extended beyond the desk. He had been pleasantly watching Se-kyung, the epitome of a model student, organize her notes, but let out a deep sigh at her next words.

“If there’s a big age difference, does kissing not feel like anything?”

“Ah, this kid again…”

Even though she should have been put off knowing the soul was much older than her, Choi Se-kyung was persistent. Figuring out what exactly made Se-kyung fall for him had become the greatest puzzle of his life.

Anyway, he did answer Se-kyung’s question. Though it was close to sarcasm. After all, evaluations should be cold.

“You call that a kiss?”

As Se-kyung stopped her pen, clearly displeased, Song Yi-heon seized the opportunity to sneer again.

“A kid who can’t even kiss properly is being cheeky. You think just using your tongue makes it a kiss?”

He must have thought he’d faint from touching tongues with such a young kid, but it wasn’t that he was good at it. He snickered, recalling the clumsy tongue movements that only knew how to rub dully. Having been so teased by Choi Se-kyung, when the chance to tease back arose, he completely forgot his shock from being kissed and jeered.

“You’re a hundred years too early.”

“Then why don’t you teach me once?”

“What’s so pretty about you that I should teach you?”

As Se-kyung couldn’t counter and just took it, Song Yi-heon, getting excited, continued to tease, but in his excitement, he didn’t notice that in his memory, the kiss with Se-kyung was transforming from shock to pleasure.

* * *

Today too, pushed around here and there, the junior gangster of the White Tiger faction moved with steps weary of life. The heaviness in his steps on the way home was not only due to accumulated fatigue but also the disrespect and dissatisfaction he had endured all day.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had fulfilled his duty as a junior gangster, not acting out of turn and serving his seniors devotedly. He thought that someday, when new members were recruited below the junior gangsters, he could drop the ‘junior’ modifier. Until then, the junior gangster had been happy.

He didn’t know the ripple effects of the death of a Chilseong faction executive would reach him too. Even when he followed his seniors to pay respects at Kim Deuk-pal’s funeral, it was just, “Oh, he died.” Even when he heard news that organizations bordering Chilseong faction’s territory were joining forces to tear Chilseong apart, he was just surprised and picked up tools as ordered by higher-ups.

It was ridiculous to emphasize loyalty and trust to gangsters.

From what he heard, the dead Kim Deuk-pal wasn’t actually dead, but what could a dead person do? At most, he might grab their napes from heaven.

It was all well and good that they had taken over Chilseong faction’s business like that, but the problem was that they couldn’t handle the suddenly increased scale of operations. They had barely managed to stabilize the stolen businesses, but all the stress accumulated by the seniors until then became the junior gangster’s burden to bear.

The junior gangster became the target of all sorts of venting just for being the youngest. Sometimes he even resented the disbanded Chilseong faction.

Despite the long story of this and that, the junior gangster hurriedly climbed the alley, wanting to get to the dorm quickly to wash his sweat-soaked body and sleep. Having dealt with the odd jobs left by his seniors, his way home was in the late hours of dawn. His shadow fell darkly on the street dyed red by streetlights.

Walking while looking at the shadow at his feet, the junior gangster sensed another presence. The following shadow walked quickly when the junior gangster walked quickly, and slowed when he slowed. That suspicious shadow approached close.

The junior gangster, sweating cold, prepared to swing his fist. But the shadow passed by as if mocking him. As the junior gangster’s steps slowed in dismay, the tall man walking ahead moved farther away.

“I got scared for nothing.”

Just as he finished speaking, an impact hit the junior gangster’s shin.

“Ugh-!”

As he fell with a scream, an arm wrapped around his neck from behind. When he tried to remove the arm, he grabbed a thin, rough windbreaker. It was that stalker. The junior gangster instinctively realized the identity of the assailant behind him. A man with his hood pulled down to cover his eyes. The back view of him fleeing with his windbreaker fluttering. It was definitely that stalker he had lost a few days ago.

The arm around his neck tightened once more on the junior gangster’s Adam’s apple. The pressure on his bones caused nausea that weakened his entire body. The junior gangster’s nails scraped the windbreaker.

“Kuhek…!”

“You dare to backstab?”

“Wh-who…!”

“Go and tell them. The Chilseong faction guys are moving again.”

Chilseong faction. The junior gangster stopped resisting. An eerie voice spread in his ear. The eeriness, like that of a grim reaper, foretold the resurrection of the dead.

“Tell them Kim Deuk-pal is alive.”