GBH 37

 Choi Se-kyung’s affirmation was also a self-deprecating feeling. He endured his father’s oppression with the belief that he didn’t kill the girl when he was six years old. Even if his parents treated Se-kyung strangely, he didn’t consider himself abnormal. He hadn’t killed anyone, and he believed himself to be a sane person who could distinguish between cruel imagination and reality.

However, Choi Myung-hyun insisted that Se-kyung had indeed killed the girl. This confused Se-kyung greatly, making him unsure whether he had actually done it.

The sound of the waves enveloped the silence.

The fake Song Yi-heon didn’t even attempt his usual indifferent persecution. Even though he could usually solve problems easily, it wasn’t a murder case after all. As Se-kyung thought about it, he suddenly felt queasy and covered his mouth. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to be seen as someone to be feared or labeled as crazy.

Se-kyung laid out his memories of when he was six as if making a poor excuse.

“To be honest, I don’t remember well. I was young and scared. The only thing I vividly remember is that the girl who died was noisy…”

Did he kill her because she was noisy? Kim Deuk-pal formed a possible hypothesis in his mind.

“We met a few times at gatherings, and if things didn’t go her way, she would cry and throw tantrums… She was that kind of kid. I didn’t want to be around her because she was noisy, but she seemed to like me. When I tried to avoid her, she would get even noisier, so I just did what she wanted that day because she was demanding a lot.”

The couple, who were just starting to gain a foothold in society, were not able to properly take care of their son. Other adults saw them as a cute young couple. Only young Se-kyung accumulated dissatisfaction while being dragged around by the girl.

“So I went upstairs. I remember there was something like a kids’ room up there. I was going to leave the girl there, but she was hanging on the railing on the second floor.”

The structure allowed a view from the first floor to the second floor through a unified railing.

The girl hung on the railing, swinging her arms back and forth, calling Se-kyung. It was annoying and gave him a headache. Se-kyung just wanted to leave her and go home. But if he left her crying and lying on the floor, with her arms and legs flailing, there was no way to calm her down. Annoyed adults usually wanted Se-kyung to give in to the girl’s wishes. Eventually, Se-kyung ended up taking care of the girl.

Se-kyung glanced indifferently at the little girl before moving to the railing. He intended to find his father on the lower floor. Once found, he’d plead to go home, claiming a headache. His new shoes hurt his feet, and he was in a bad mood. He wanted to rest comfortably in the quiet of home.

As Se-kyung searched for Choi Myung-hyun, something white fluttered in the corner of his vision. It was the decorative pin in the girl’s hair, swaying with her movements. Se-kyung suddenly imagined. His enlarged pupils rippled with excitement.

Touch the twisted hairpin properly and drop it downstairs. Then the girl would want to retrieve it, and he’d be unusually kind and offer to go with her. The excited girl would hop down the stairs. If he followed closely behind and pushed her…

Se-kyung lost interest in what he had just imagined and his pupils returned to normal. It was just imagination anyway. He knew pushing someone down stairs was wrong and shouldn’t be done.

As he resumed looking for Choi Myung-hyun, the white hairpin fell to the lower floor on its own. The girl was on the verge of tears after accidentally dropping it. Disliking the sound of crying, Se-kyung kindly offered to go down with her. As expected, the girl jumped excitedly. Se-kyung followed just as he had imagined moments ago.

Se-kyung paused his story here. When Kim Deuk-pal handed him water from the duffel bag, he accepted and moistened his throat.

“She slipped on the stairs, and I tried to catch her.”

He tried to grab the girl’s white dress but missed. She tumbled down the spiral staircase. Young Se-kyung couldn’t go down the steep stairs because his legs were shaking. He climbed to the second floor, just a few steps up, and looked down from the railing. The girl lay sprawled, head down, with red blood spreading widely behind her.

Someone else was witnessing the same scene as Choi Se-kyung. Choi Myung-hyun. Their eyes met, his eyes filled with shock. How long had he been watching? Young Se-kyung’s heart raced.

The girl was taken to the emergency room due to Choi Myung-hyun’s actions. Choi Myung-hyun didn’t follow her to the emergency room; instead, he grabbed Se-kyung by the shoulders and urged him on. Se-kyung explained and defended himself. He had imagined the girl ending up like that, but he hadn’t actually intended it.

News came that the girl had died after days of critical condition in the hospital.

“…I thought I was trying to catch the girl.”

Se-kyung added uncertainly. He believed he had tried to catch her when his hand touched her back. But after hearing Choi Myung-hyun’s words in the study, his faith wavered. It was too long ago. As a child, he hadn’t felt anything strange, but now even Se-kyung had doubts.

Was it truly coincidence that his imagination of pushing the girl down the stairs immediately became reality? What did his father mean by saying he had “taken care of it”?

Se-kyung no longer had the certainty that he did not kill the girl.

Se-kyung told all of this.

“…”

As the story ended, Kim Deuk-pal patted the chest of his overcoat, thinking about cigarettes. When he felt the flat part where the chest pocket should be, he remembered that now it was Song Yi-heon’s body. He didn’t feel like digging through the pockets anymore, as there were several inexplicable points.

It seems like an accident.

Even if it wasn’t, wouldn’t most parents insist their child didn’t do it and try to cover it up?

Kim Deuk-pal tried to think from the perspective of Choi Se-kyung’s father. But from the story he’d heard, he couldn’t grasp the intention of accusing his son of being a murderer. Se-kyung’s father was strange somehow. Or maybe he was hiding something.

Kim Deuk-pal ran his fingers through his short hair, messing it up, and stopped thinking. Maybe it was because he had no children that he couldn’t understand a parent’s feelings. However, he was certain that the Se-kyung who had cried and apologized for letting Song Yi-heon go on that rainy day wasn’t someone who would commit murder.

“If it’s not you, it’s not.”

The kid may be sensitive like a newborn, a bit rude, dark-hearted, and smile while harboring ulterior motives, but underneath all that, he’s a good kid. Deuk-pal listed numerous fatal flaws, then countered with one generic, unconvincing positive trait to offset them.

“They say a person’s nature doesn’t change. You might be sensitive, but you’re not a psycho who’d kill someone for being noisy, so you probably weren’t like that as a kid either.”

If anything, Choi Se-kyung tended to hold things in usually.

“I haven’t known you for long, but you don’t seem particularly abnormal.”

Just naturally gifted at irritating people. Kim Deuk-pal didn’t bother adding that last part.

Se-kyung suddenly stopped. Though he had been walking along the dock even while telling his long story, when he stopped, Deuk-pal followed suit.

“What’s wrong? Why stop?”

“…What if I were to push you in here?”

The deep East Sea churned below the cement edge of the dock. Fitting its purpose for mooring ships, the dock had no safety fence, and fishing boats were sparsely docked at wide intervals. One misstep could send someone tumbling off the dock.

The security at the deserted dock was poor. There were no witnesses, no closed-circuit cameras. If he fell into the sea here, he wouldn’t be able to request rescue and would barely recover his body. Above all, the fear of drowning in the black sea where the waves crashed relentlessly was heightened.

Kim Deuk-pal couldn’t possibly not know that. He widened his eyes momentarily in surprise at Se-kyung’s words, then lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Go ahead and try.”

He even took Se-kyung’s idle hand and placed it on his own shoulder, encouraging him. Se-kyung suddenly found the situation unpleasant and tried to withdraw his hand. Upon hearing Song Yi-heon’s assertion that he was normal, Se-kyung felt an impulse to even reveal his violent nature. It was a childish provocation, asking whether Song Yi-heon would call him normal despite knowing that Se-kyung often had horrific imaginations. The thought of Song Yi-heon disappearing forever into the black sea made him sick to his stomach.

However, as Se-kyung tried to pull his hand away from his shoulder, it was caught. With the black sea as a backdrop, Song Yi-heon’s face stood out even in the darkness. Even with just a faint outline, it struck Se-kyung like lightning cutting through the darkness. That was the level of presence the fake Song Yi-heon had for Se-kyung.

“Don’t hold back.”

His lips curved into a hostile smile.

“Do as you wish. I can handle it.”

“…What do you think I’m going to do?”

“At least you won’t commit murder.”

“…”

Se-kyung furrowed his brow. Song Yi-heon’s amused laughter spread like waves.

“I’m saying I believe you. That you’re not someone who would kill. You said you felt suffocated, right? So I’m offering to be your breathing space.”

Song Yi-heon’s refreshing smile was clear in the darkness.

“You think I can’t handle just one of you?”

He was confident. Hesitating at the firmness that seemed able to withstand the violence and cruelty within him, Se-kyung eventually raised his hand. Following the other’s invitation to do as he pleased, he traced the outline of Song Yi-heon’s lips with his thumb.

Above the fully zipped overcoat, Song Yi-heon lifted his chin as if intrigued. This caused Se-kyung’s thumb to press against his lips. He could feel the teeth inside the plump lips. Se-kyung did something that would normally have ended in imagination. He pressed his thumb against the lips.

Kim Deuk-pal didn’t refuse Se-kyung’s touch as if to prove what he had said. Se-kyung’s palm caressed the small face. It had delicate skin, a nose with delicate curves, and the long, dense eyelashes, even the fragile trembling of the quivering eyelids was entirely in his hands.

Se-kyung hadn’t yet found what was important in his life. But at this moment, he vaguely felt like he might know. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy whose white contours shone in the darkness.

The waves crashed. Like walking on the black sea, an intense emotion like turbulent waves enveloped Se-kyung.

After some time had passed, as the hand movements on his face began to feel playful and the thin skin grew hot, Kim Deuk-pal pulled his head away.

“Stop touching me, damn it.”

Guys shouldn’t be touching each other like this, it’s creepy. Kim Deuk-pal swatted away the hand that had moved from caressing his cheeks to now cupping his jaw.

“What time is it now?”

Then he took out his cell phone from his pocket. They needed to leave soon to catch the last bus. As he was about to turn on the screen to check the time, Se-kyung’s palm covered it. Kim Deuk-pal raised his eyebrows as if asking what he was doing, but Se-kyung didn’t hold back.

“Let’s stay the night.”

With his pretty face, Se-kyung smiled brightly and suggested staying out overnight.