DAH Ch 11

After washing his shirt and underwear in cold water, Jungjoon’s hands were red and stiff from the chill. This is why winter is such a hardship. Breathing warm air onto his aching hands, he headed toward the room.

“Hyung.”

Startled by a figure suddenly appearing in the hallway, Jungjoon flinched, his shoulders trembling as he took a step back.

“D-Did you w-wash m-my p-panties?”

The dim light in the hallway illuminated Yoonhae’s face. His pallid complexion made him look like he was suffering from malnutrition. Only his eyes always shone with an eerie, vivid intensity.

“…No. Just my shirt.”

Giving a short reply, Jungjoon brushed past him. He could feel the silent presence following him from behind. The sharp, piercing gaze stabbed into his back.

Since entering fourth grade, Yoonhae had undeniably undergone another transformation. He was showing unmistakable signs of puberty. He’d become sensitive about things like washing underwear, which he used to take for granted, and even tried to cover himself when they bathed together. Jungjoon figured he must have reached an age where such things started to matter, and though he tried to brush it off casually, he felt an inward awkwardness.

“A-Aren’t you going to s-sleep…?”

“Yeah. I’m just reading a comic book. You go ahead and sleep.”

Jungjoon answered without taking his eyes off the book on purpose. It was a book he’d already read at least five times, but he pretended to be engrossed in it.

He quietly flipped through the pages one by one. What started as a pretense of reading gradually turned into actual immersion. It wasn’t until he’d turned ten more pages that he noticed the persistent gaze still clinging to him.

Like a idle dog with nothing to do, Yoonhae’s foolish staring continued unabated. Glancing sideways, Jungjoon caught Yoonhae speaking as if he’d been waiting for the chance.

“H-Hyung…”

Jungjoon regretted looking at him.

“S-Sleep…”

“…….”

“Hm? Sleep…”

Yoonhae stammered, persistently pressing his request. Sleep, sleep… sleep… sleep… sleep, sleep…. Listening to the single syllable repeated like a broken tape made Jungjoon feel like his head was going crazy. With no other choice, he put down the book he’d been reading and lay down to sleep.

In the room, half the kids were already asleep, while the other half were still chattering. A faint light glowed in one corner, but as soon as Jungjoon lay down, Yoonhae pulled the blanket over their heads, plunging them into darkness.

“D-Do… it…”

“…….”

Jungjoon, prompted by the request, blinked silently under the covers. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out where Yoonhae’s eyes, nose, or mouth were.

“…It’s dark. Pull the blanket down.”

“…D-Do it…”

Was this part of puberty too? Lately, the kisses Yoonhae used to demand openly had turned into secretive pleas. Had he finally realized that a grown kid asking his older brother for a kiss was strange?

Either way, it was just as uncomfortable for Jungjoon. No, perhaps it felt even more reluctant than before.

“…I can’t see anything. Just sleep.”

He spoke curtly and tried to turn over. But Yoonhae closed the distance, grabbing both of Jungjoon’s forearms tightly. Breathing out hot air so close their noses almost touched, he whispered, “Do it….”

“…….”

Goosebumps prickled up Jungjoon’s nape. Suppressing the urge to shove him away, Jungjoon quickly pecked his lips. “There, happy?” he said, trying to pull back, only to be held down again. Moist lips pressed firmly against Jungjoon’s, the damp, soft sensation accompanied by a rush of warm breath.

“One more…”

It was the last time their lips met and parted. An unintended, suggestive friction sound rang out. Startled by a noise that sounded like something an adult might make, Jungjoon shot upright, his entire body tingling.

“…What are you doing right now?”

“…….”

Yoonhae looked at him with eyes that seemed clueless about what he’d done wrong. Meeting that brazen stare, Jungjoon turned his head sharply with a huff. Irritation surged uncontrollably, yet he couldn’t lash out. What could he even get mad about?

He roughly wiped the lingering dampness from his lips with the back of his hand. Turning over in frustration, Yoonhae immediately clung to him from behind. Anger flared, and Jungjoon shoved him off with his elbow. A sharp thud sounded as he pressed down, followed by a groan of “Ah,” before Yoonhae finally quieted.

Even trying to forget, the unpleasant sensation kept resurfacing, disrupting his sleep. Breathing heavily and tossing around, Jungjoon eventually found some calm by lying face down.

How long had it been since he fell asleep like that? Stirring slightly and opening his eyes, he saw the room shrouded in darkness. The lights had been turned off after the designated bedtime, he realized. Judging by the faint light seeping through the window and the steady breathing around him, it was likely dawn.

Feeling a subtle presence, Jungjoon rolled over to the other side. His eyes met Yoonhae’s, who was silently crying while staring at him.

“…….”

Tears welled up and spilled ceaselessly from those dark eyes. How long had he been like this? Probably since Jungjoon had shoved him with his elbow. Thinking that he’d been sobbing quietly like this for hours since then made Jungjoon’s spine stiffen.

It would’ve been better if he’d wailed loudly and thrown a tantrum. That would’ve been more childlike. If he had, Jungjoon might’ve sighed and comforted him. But faced with this deep, suppressed sorrow, he didn’t know what to do.

“…Stop crying.”

He whispered softly. Yet Yoonhae kept staring at him, tears flowing. Without even blinking once.

“…….”

The relentless pooling and falling of tears churned Jungjoon’s stomach. Giving in, he scooted closer, pulled Yoonhae into his arms, and patted him aimlessly. He ran his hands over Yoonhae’s tousled hair and bony back, soothing him. “Hyung’s sorry, hyung was wrong,” he repeated, apologies he didn’t even mean.

Yoonhae’s tear-streaked face lifted toward Jungjoon. After enduring a few salty kisses, Yoonhae finally stopped crying in Jungjoon’s embrace.

The limbs clinging to him were still thin. But they’d grown longer and tougher than last year.

Jungjoon rhythmically patted Yoonhae’s back until he fell asleep. Like a soulless shell, or a machine or doll. He kept up the same motion until Yoonhae was satisfied, eventually closing his heavy eyes.

⟡˖ ࣪

The next day, Yoonhae’s low mood kept Jungjoon on edge. Yoonhae wanted Jungjoon to hug him more often, more tightly. Beyond hugs, he sought hand-holding, kisses, or some form of physical contact whenever he was upset.

All of it came through silent stares or wordless gestures, not spoken demands.

“…What’s wrong?”

Even at lunch, Yoonhae suddenly curled up mid-meal. He clutched his chest as if in pain. Looking closer, it seemed to be the spot where Jungjoon’s elbow had struck him yesterday.

“…Does it hurt, Yoonhae? Hm?”

Seeing him shed fat tears, Jungjoon panicked. The other kids eating nearby glanced over, wondering what was wrong.

Rubbing his back and hugging him didn’t stop the crying. Asking if it hurt yielded no answer—just more clutching and sobbing. Holding his hand didn’t work either, and the only option left was a kiss, but Yoonhae stubbornly refused to move even when Jungjoon tried to take him aside.

“…….”

Yoonhae gripped Jungjoon’s arm tightly as he tried to stand. It felt like a silent demand to do it here, now.

Fatigue washed over him. Should he just ignore it and eat, whether Yoonhae cried or not? Hesitating, Jungjoon seized a moment when no one was looking and kissed Yoonhae’s cheek.

But Yoonhae wasn’t satisfied. Lifting his head, he stared at Jungjoon. Tears streamed down as rice grains stuck to his mouth.

Jungjoon frowned. Suppressing his rising aversion, he reluctantly leaned down. The brief kiss ended, and instantly, a shout erupted: “They kissed!”

“Ew, gross—! They rubbed lips in the middle of eating!”

The dining hall erupted in noise. Excited kids shouted about the kiss, causing a ruckus.

“It’s not like that, so shut up and eat.”

Jungjoon snapped, unusually harsh, but the commotion showed no signs of dying down. With talk of “homos” and “they’re dating,” irritation was the least of it—disgust made the food stick in his throat. Seeing girls at a distance recoil, shame flushed Jungjoon’s neck red.

His appetite gone, he started to stand, but Yoonhae grabbed his hand. Refusing to let go, he clung as usual. Afraid he’d start crying again, Jungjoon sat back down reluctantly.

Amid jeers to “get married,” Yoonhae ate. His crying stopped, and his chewing side profile even looked pleased. The chest pain he’d tearfully clutched seemed miraculously gone.

The taste of seaweed soup from their kiss lingered. Jungjoon stirred his bowl, considering another bite, but ultimately set his spoon down.

⟡˖ ࣪

After eating, he prepared to head to his part-time job—one of the few times he could be away from Yoonhae. Lately, thankfully, Yoonhae didn’t seem to hate this time as much.

Was it puberty? Had he developed some sense of personal space? He’d learned to make use of uninterrupted time. Though he still came to meet Jungjoon when work ended, he no longer showed extreme resistance to being apart like before.

His fast-food chain job had lasted two years now. After drifting through odd jobs like handing out flyers, it was his first proper gig. From workload to pay, it was leagues better than anything he’d done. Plus, free burgers with meals—it was as perfect as a job could get.

It was there that Jungjoon got his first girlfriend, Hyerim, a girl his age from a nearby middle school.

Being the same age, they grew close, and a month ago, she confessed. At first, he rejected her as always, but after repeated confessions, his heart softened. Even after revealing he lived in an orphanage, their bond didn’t waver. Hyerim accepted that he didn’t have a phone and that their time together was painfully limited.

His first girlfriend. His first relationship. Even in bone-chilling weather, thinking of her warmed his heart. It was a happiness Jungjoon had never felt before.

“We only get 30 minutes together.”

After work, he and Hyerim went to a nearby park. Holding hands tightly, they exhaled frosty breaths in the cold.

“It’s pretty chilly.”

At his remark, she snuggled closer.

“No, it’s fine.”

Her cheeks, rosy from the cold, looked pretty, making Jungjoon smile.

They could’ve gone somewhere warm, but they came to the park as if by unspoken agreement. They’d learned the warmth blooming inside outweighed any immediate comfort.

“…….”

Facing each other, their lips naturally met briefly.

“I missed you.”

Her embrace banished the cold. “Me too,” Jungjoon said, hugging her back.

Their lips met again, lingering longer this time. As they pressed together, Jungjoon suddenly pulled away, startled.

The forced kiss with Yoonhae under the blankets flashed in his mind. Shuddering with sudden revulsion, he saw Hyerim’s hurt expression.

“…Did you not like it?”

Flustered, Jungjoon shook his head.

“No, it’s just—I thought someone was coming…”

Relieved by his makeshift excuse, she smiled.

“…Here.”

She pulled a small shopping bag from her pocket. Inside were a few chocolates and a letter.

“Don’t read it now—wait till you’re alone.”

“…Okay. Got it.”

Thanks, Hyerim-ah.

Her shy hand took his at his heartfelt thanks. Jungjoon tucked their clasped hands into his jacket pocket. Smiles spread across their facing faces.

A chill jolted his chest awake from the dreamlike moment just seconds later.

“…What’s wrong?”

Letting go hurriedly, Jungjoon scanned the park entrance. He thought he’d seen a familiar face.

No way. It couldn’t be. Yoonhae always waited near the orphanage alley. There was no reason to run into him at a park near work.

But spotting a tuft of hair sticking out confirmed it. Peeking from the entrance was Yoonhae. How he’d followed him here was a mystery.

“Hey, I’ve got to go.”

“It hasn’t even been 30 minutes?”

“Uh, my little brother… sorry.”

Stammering, he hastily packed up. Knowing Yoonhae was back there unsettled him. Shoving the gift deep into his jacket, he rushed toward Yoonhae.

“Why are you here?”

Asking, he hurriedly dragged him away from the park. Yoonhae followed but kept glancing back at Hyerim, left alone.

On the way back to the orphanage, Yoonhae was oddly quiet. Alone now, Jungjoon’s mind tangled with what to ask first. Why was he there at that time? How did he know about the park? How long had he been watching? All were questions too awkward to voice.

“W-Who w-was that?”

Yoonhae spoke first.

“…What?”

Jungjoon felt his heart lurch violently.

“T-The u-ugly girl n-next to y-you, hyung…”

“She’s not ugly.”

Frowning, Jungjoon snapped back, and Yoonhae fell silent.

That silence felt ominous, prompting Jungjoon to glance at him warily.

As feared, Yoonhae stopped walking mid-stride. No answer came to “What’s wrong?”—just standing there mutely.

Then, he abruptly turned and entered a construction site. Jungjoon called out that it was dangerous, but it was no use. He had no choice but to follow his stubborn brother inside.

“…….”

Yoonhae crouched in a corner on the dirt. Jungjoon sat beside him. Yoonhae propped his knees up, burying his face between them. A while later, he quietly reached out and gripped Jungjoon’s arm.

Lifting his head, he pressed himself against Jungjoon. A silent demand for a kiss followed. Jungjoon realized why Yoonhae had come here. Insisting on a hidden spot for something so trivial made it feel secretive and wrong, stirring a sickening dread.

He couldn’t hold that staring gaze long. It churned his stomach. The sensation of being sucked in, of helplessness, was unbearable.

Jungjoon complied, kissing and hugging him as much as he wanted. Satisfied, Yoonhae’s mood visibly lifted as he called out.

“H-Hyung…”

“…….”

“Hyung.”

The playful, drawn-out “hyung-ah” had changed at some point.

“Hyung.”

The calls sometimes felt like pressure, urging Jungjoon on. “What?” he replied, annoyed, and Yoonhae rubbed his arm slowly.

“…H-Hey…”

“…….”

“D-Did you k-know? A-An a-alpha c-can t-turn a b-beta i-into an o-omega t-too.”

“…….”

“W-When I b-become an a-alpha l-later, s-should I m-make you, hyung, an o-omega…?”

It took Jungjoon a while to respond.

“…No.”

It’d been two years since his first trait test. Right after entering middle school, a physical and trait exam had labeled him a beta.

He’d been so nervous he couldn’t sleep the night before. And when he showed Yoonhae the results, Yoonhae had screamed and cried hysterically.

It still felt like yesterday. Since then, Jungjoon had brightened a little, while Yoonhae grew darker and gloomier.

“…….”

Lost in his own thoughts, Yoonhae laughed. Not cute—unsettling. His crescent-moon eyes were pitch-black, like a night sky. It felt like sticky, dark liquid might ooze out any moment.

In a better mood, Yoonhae said,

“W-When are y-you g-getting m-married, hyung?”

An out-of-the-blue question.

“…Why?”

“I-I’m g-gonna g-get m-married w-when I’m f-fourteen.”

No laugh escaped at the absurd nonsense. Jungjoon chose to ignore it rather than explain legal marriage ages—it’d only drag out a headache-inducing talk.

“…What about you, hyung?”

Yoonhae pressed on, oblivious.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“B-Before, y-you s-said y-you w-would…”

“…Me?”

Frowning, Jungjoon suddenly recalled an old memory. Explaining sex to Yoonhae’s questions had spiraled into talk of marriage.

Yoonhae had insisted on marrying Jungjoon, and Jungjoon had to explain why that wasn’t possible. He’d said they’d each meet a girl they liked, marry, and build families—obvious truths Yoonhae refused to accept.

“…When I’m older, I guess. If I meet a girl I like. And save up money till then.”

Jungjoon gave a grounded answer. Hearing it, Yoonhae’s expression shifted noticeably. Frowning and kicking the dirt, he showed his displeasure through face and gestures. Unwilling to indulge his fickleness, Jungjoon stood up.

“It’s cold. Let’s go.”

Yoonhae’s sulking persisted on the way back to the orphanage. Jungjoon didn’t spare him a glance, maintaining cold indifference. Even when Yoonhae took it out on passing walls or trees, Jungjoon ignored it, refusing to react.

“Not eating?”

Back at the orphanage, Yoonhae stayed slumped. Jungjoon offered dinner, but got no response. Unfazed, he left to eat alone.

When he returned after eating, Yoonhae hadn’t budged. Unable to let him starve, Jungjoon placed some bread he’d brought beside him.

Sitting nearby to read, he soon heard grumbling. At first, he thought it was sleep-talk, but Yoonhae was stewing in frustration. His irritated breathing disrupted Jungjoon’s focus on the book.

What’s he so mad and upset about?

Honestly, Jungjoon didn’t want to understand. He couldn’t imagine he could. He’s just like that. A weird kid I can’t figure out. That’s how he brushed it off. Otherwise, he couldn’t stand being around him for a second.

An hour later, Yoonhae got up from his grumbling. After being so annoying, he now sat eating the bread Jungjoon had left, as if nothing happened.

For some reason, he suddenly seemed in high spirits. Eating heartily and laughing, he acted like all was fine. Finishing the bread, he stuck to Jungjoon’s side as always, chattering nonsense and fiddling with his shoulder and arm.

Had he noticed Jungjoon’s sour mood? Or was it just another mood swing? After pestering him, Yoonhae went outside and returned with a plucked flower. He wrapped it around Jungjoon’s ring finger, clumsily tying it into a shoddy flower ring.

“P-Pretty!”

Yoonhae admired it alone.

“…….”

Could this even be called a gift? Jungjoon felt no joy. A once-vibrant life from outside had turned into troublesome trash in an instant.

The flower was already wilting from being handled too much. Feeling oddly melancholic, Jungjoon slipped it off and tossed it in the bin when Yoonhae wasn’t looking.

“W-Where’s t-the r-ring?”

“…….”

“T-The r-ring I g-gave you…!”

To a teary Yoonhae, Jungjoon made an excuse.

“I took it off because it’s too precious.”

Yoonhae quickly wiped his tears and beamed. He insisted he’d make a bigger one tomorrow. Jungjoon wanted to beg him to stop but just nodded.

Happy one moment, irritated the next, then back to giddy excitement. The unpredictable whims were exhausting. Beyond that, Yoonhae’s innate nature itself suffocated Jungjoon. Being near him felt like his breath was dying—like that flower Yoonhae had picked today.

“…….”

Yoonhae pressed close, refusing to let go. Ignoring the sensation of skin rubbing against him, Jungjoon drifted into a fantasy. He imagined his soul leaving his body, roaming freely outside the orphanage. Not beside Yoonhae, but beside his girlfriend.

“…Do it.”

Yoonhae’s voice snapped him back.

“K-Kiss… d-do it…”

Turning, he saw Yoonhae puckering his lips, demanding a kiss.

“…….”

Just until next year…

He thought of the money hidden where no one knew. It wasn’t much, but with the discharge stipend, it wasn’t nothing.

If I can just hold out till then…

With that thought, he kissed the clinging Yoonhae. Mechanically pressing their lips, he patted him as demanded.

As he soothed him like lulling a baby, Yoonhae hugged Jungjoon tightly. The pressure of legs wrapping around him made Jungjoon grimace.

For some reason, a spider’s hunt he’d seen long ago came to mind. The thin, long legs wrapping prey twice its size flashed unbidden into his thoughts.

A spider that didn’t chew but injected venom to suck its prey dry. Jungjoon thought of the insects caught in its web—once free creatures. How did they feel as venom spread, rendering them helpless?

Trapped in a sticky snare, slowly dying—did even those lowly bugs feel sadness and fear?

“I need the bathroom…”

Jungjoon made an excuse and barely escaped the embrace.

Fleeing to the restroom, he took the farthest stall and sat. It was smelly and cramped, but being alone in an enclosed space eased his mind. He almost didn’t want to leave.

Soon, he rustled something from his pocket.

An envelope with a cute cat sticker—Hyerim’s handwritten letter.

“…….”

He smoothed the slightly curled edge with his fingertip. He’d hidden it in his pocket fearing someone might see, and a corner had creased. He flattened the center crease with his palm like ironing it.

What did she write?

He’d been dying to know since receiving it. Unable to text or call like other kids made it more so.

Opening the envelope, he unfolded the letter, revealing tiny, meticulous handwriting. The careful strokes showed her effort.

He read it from start to finish, then again. Ordinary words, trivial things—yet they felt wondrous. How could just reading make him so happy?

Unknowingly, Jungjoon smiled. And cried a little. Holding the letter longingly, he eventually refolded it neatly and hid it back in his pocket.

Wiping damp eyes, he stood. Clicking the latch and opening the door, he flinched and stepped back.

“…….”

His breath nearly stopped.

“…Why are you here…?”

Yoonhae stood right in front.

“…….”

The lack of any prior sound made it creepier. It was enough to turn his warm feelings cold. The cozy space reverted to a dank, musty bathroom. Ammonia, old mold, and mildew smells—all forgotten—assaulted his nose at once.

Yoonhae tilted his head, peering at Jungjoon’s face. Jungjoon snapped at him irritably.

“…What?”

“D-Did y-you c-cry?”

“…No.”

Glancing coldly, he turned away. I should’ve hidden somewhere else. Regret was useless—he was already caught.

Back in the room, he grabbed a book immediately. Exuding a “don’t disturb” vibe, he started homework, keeping Yoonhae from approaching easily. He felt the stare boring into his back but could ignore that much.

Using homework as an excuse, he stayed away from Yoonhae’s side as long as possible. He immersed himself in studying at his desk until lights-out. Yoonhae came over a few times, touching his back. When he leaned in heavily, Jungjoon quietly scolded him, slightly dampening his spirits.

He endured at the desk as long as he could. Today, he especially didn’t want to sleep beside Yoonhae.

Holding out until dawn, he finally turned off the small light. Carefully, he crawled back to the bedding beside Yoonhae. Lifting the blanket to lie down, he checked on him. Yoonhae lay on his side toward Jungjoon’s spot, breathing evenly.

Confirming he was asleep, Jungjoon lay down. But the sudden warmth pressing close made his heart sink.

“Mmm…”

Yoonhae rubbed his cheek against Jungjoon, groaning. He smiled as if waking from a pleasant dream.

“…K-Kiss…”

From the lip shape to the whining voice, Jungjoon was fed up. He’d hoped to skip it just for today.

“We did it a lot already. Let’s just sleep.”

Jungjoon brushed his hand off and turned over sharply. Minutes later, an uneasy feeling and cold sweat on his back hit him. Fearing crying might start, he turned back preemptively.

Smack… smack…

Kissing him audibly, a satisfied Yoonhae burrowed into him. His bony hands, stiffening Jungjoon in their grip, soon moved to his chest. Rubbing up and down repeatedly, they lingered there, fiddling aimlessly like a pointless game.

“…H-Honey.”

At first, Jungjoon thought he’d misheard. A chilling shiver ran up his spine, and he bolted upright.

“…….”

What had he just heard? Recalling it twisted his insides, nausea surging.

“…What are you doing?”

Angrily demanding an answer, Yoonhae rolled his eyes. As if he were suddenly shy.

“What did you do?”

Pressed again, Yoonhae clutched Jungjoon’s pillowcase, fidgeting.

“M-Mommy a-and d-daddy p-play…”

“What nonsense is this? That’s…”

Jungjoon ruffled his hair, exasperated. He couldn’t fathom the thought process. In the middle of the night, lying together, saying “honey”? “Mommy and daddy play”? He couldn’t grasp the logic or the gap between actions.

“Ha…”

He felt like crying. What was wrong? Why was he like this? Couldn’t he just act normal like other kids? The urge to grab his shoulders and shake him gripped Jungjoon.

Did he still seriously want to marry him? The question crossed his mind, but he couldn’t voice it. If Yoonhae said yes, Jungjoon feared he truly couldn’t endure it anymore.

Jungjoon slipped out of bed, issuing a warning. “Don’t follow me.” Leaving the words coldly behind, he walked out of the room.

Unable to step outside into the harsh winter cold, he sat on the hallway stairs instead. As the chill seeped through his hips from the steps, the heat that had flared up inside him seemed to subside.

“…….”

He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up slightly. To relieve the stifling feeling, he exhaled a long “Haa.” But the nausea churning in his stomach didn’t ease one bit.

Still hunched over, he slipped a hand inside his shirt and scratched his chest roughly. It felt like bugs were crawling over every spot that had been touched earlier. Invisible, persistent, repulsive bugs.

Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch—he clawed at his skin until it felt raw. Only when it stung and left a burning sensation did he feel somewhat alive again.

How long would he have to endure this?

A bleak, distant thought followed, draining his energy. With each passing day, Yoonhae’s touch was growing more unsettling. It no longer felt like simple whining or clinging—there was something deliberate, something intentional behind it now.

That sparked a revulsion so strong he felt an impulsive urge to shove him away. Whenever that strange vibe hit, he wanted to push Yoonhae down in a fit of anger. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from using violence against a brother so much younger than him.

He hated it.

He hated it all.

In that powerlessness, time dragged on endlessly. His curled-up body began to ache in various places. The cold had chilled him to the bone, but the thought of going back inside didn’t cross his mind.

He didn’t want to be near Yoonhae. He didn’t want to feel that warm body heat.

“H-Honey…”

The stammering voice calling him that strange name echoed in his ears. Like discovering a bug, every hair on his body stood on end.

Looking up at the window in the hallway, he saw a full moon hanging in the sky. Staring at it for a while, Jungjoon slowly closed his eyes. It was to pray to a god in the heavens—his first real attempt since mimicking it at church long ago.

“Please… please, please…”

Desperately clasping his hands together, he pleaded and pleaded again.

Only after praying for a long while did he drag his frozen body back to the room.

⟡˖ ࣪

Living through hectic days, payday arrived before he knew it. Jungjoon steeled himself and bought a gift for his girlfriend—a small pair of earrings from a street vendor.

Since it was a day he had money, he went on a rare date with her. They ate pizza and spaghetti, lingered at a café, and hit up a karaoke room. Being able to spend longer than usual was thanks to a lie he’d told to ditch Yoonhae.

Before parting, he handed her the box he’d kept in his pocket. Her face lit up with surprise at the unexpected gift. Opening it right there, she beamed with joy and emotion upon seeing the contents. She even took off the earrings she was wearing and swapped them for the new ones on the spot.

A tiny flower sparkled at her ear. Maybe because they suited her even better than he’d imagined, his chest swelled with pride. He couldn’t take his eyes off her radiant smile.

If he’d known she’d love it this much, he would’ve done it sooner. Regret crept in. Secretly, he vowed to do more, to give her better things going forward.

The sun was dipping low when he returned from the bittersweet date. Oddly, Yoonhae wasn’t at the usual corner or the orphanage entrance. Though puzzled, Jungjoon considered it a relief. Scanning the orphanage interior, he headed toward the narrow garden behind the shed.

A place turned to ruins, abandoned by foot traffic. After cautiously checking around, he began his task. Not long after digging with a hidden shovel, a jar lid emerged. Pushing it aside, he pulled out a vinyl bag caked with dirt and sand—a secret envelope where he stashed his savings.

He added half of what was left from today’s earnings. Spending on his girlfriend meant it was less than last month, but the envelope still thickened noticeably.

The rest of the money had to be stored elsewhere. There was a separate spot he shared with Yoonhae.

“O-Our h-house money…!”

It’d be a lie to say he didn’t feel guilty every time he saw Yoonhae’s excitement as they added to that shared stash.

“I-I’ll s-save a l-lot of m-money a-and b-buy hyung a c-car…!”

Just days ago, Yoonhae had proudly said that while smoothing out crumpled bills, adding to Jungjoon’s guilt. Every time Yoonhae talked about saving not for himself but for Jungjoon, it gnawed at him. Seeing him diligently save with the belief they’d live together someday pricked Jungjoon’s conscience.

When Yoonhae acted innocent like other kids or obeyed well, he could seem cute for a moment. Despite everything, there were times he felt like Jungjoon’s only family.

“H-Hyung’s m-my favorite…. I o-only l-like hyung…”

A kid who relied on him so much—could he really leave him behind? The thought of abandoning someone who’d lose it over a brief separation weighed on Jungjoon’s chest like indigestion.

Should he just take him along, come what may? Maybe escaping this harsh environment would make things better. The idea crossed his mind sometimes… but after mulling it over, he always concluded it wasn’t possible.

Surviving on his own was hard enough in this world. And above all, Jungjoon wanted to break free from Yoonhae. As soon as possible, even by a day or an hour. That had always been the reason for his independence and the drive to earn money.

⟡˖ ࣪

“What’d you do to get so dirty?”

When he emerged after safely burying the money, Yoonhae was back in the room. Seeing the knees of his pants blackened with grime, Jungjoon frowned.

“Were you playing at the playground?”

No answer came despite the question. His flushed cheeks and heightened state suggested something was up.

“Did something happen?”

Yoonhae shook his head side to side and jutted his chin up defiantly.

“L-Let’s g-go s-save.”

His eyes gleamed as he spoke. Was he just excited knowing it was payday? Jungjoon nodded, hiding his unease.

After a five-minute walk, they reached a small hill behind the orphanage. Yoonhae took the lead, deftly parting the underbrush to find their buried spot. Digging with a stone they always used, he uncovered a jar lid and the vinyl bag beneath.

“T-This…!”

Yoonhae pulled a crumpled money envelope from his pocket, right after Jungjoon added his remaining pay to the dirt-stained vinyl.

“…What’s that?”

“M-Money…”

“…….”

Jungjoon grew puzzled again.

“What money? Did you work a flyer job today?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Didn’t that guy say he wouldn’t hire you again?”

“N-Not t-there… s-somewhere e-else…”

The explanation was flimsy. But Jungjoon clamped his mouth shut, choosing not to pry further.

“W-We’ll b-be r-rich s-soon. R-Right?”

The envelope Yoonhae handed over was surprisingly heavy. Could a day’s flyer work pay this much?

“…….”

Instead of checking inside, Jungjoon tucked it into the vinyl. Even if he asked, nothing would change. The suspicion and unease wouldn’t shake off anyway, so pretending not to know from the start was easier on his mind.

Yoonhae occasionally brought money from unknown sources like this. Though Jungjoon wondered if he was stealing, he forced himself to ignore it. A sense of duty not to let him do wrong clashed with exhaustion from not wanting to know more of Yoonhae’s oddities. Inevitably, the latter always won.

Jungjoon was scared. Of Yoonhae’s actions. Of Yoonhae himself. It grew worse with each passing year. Every time he saw his brother slipping further from control, powerlessness sank in. For now, as just an elementary schooler, he could still manage him somewhat. But in a few years, everything would change.

If it was this bad now, how suffocating would it be then? He was already being dragged around enough. Thinking of a future even worse made his head spin. Yoonhae, increasingly beyond his control and becoming an unmanageable presence, tightened an anxious grip around Jungjoon’s throat.

Two years. Just two more years. At eighteen, Jungjoon could take the stipend and leave. He desperately hoped to hold the upper hand in their relationship until then. That Yoonhae would somehow stay a manageable little brother.

⟡˖ ࣪

A month later, Yoonhae’s good mood turned hysterical. It began one night when he clutched his stomach in unexplained pain, writhing on the floor.

His pale face and venomous glare unnerved Jungjoon. The next day, he coldly swatted away a hand trying to check his temperature.

Slap—!

The sharp sound rang out as he glared with blatant fury. His bloodshot, glossy eyes and flickering pupils looked like they were barely containing an explosion of emotion.

Ignoring the ominous feeling, Jungjoon turned away. But that evening, after work and a brief meeting with his girlfriend, he realized the situation was far worse than he’d anticipated.

Yoonhae had skipped school without permission and stayed at the orphanage. From morning till now, evening, he sat in the same corner, hunched over. He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, just crouched there, simmering as if he’d erupt in anger or tears any moment.

The fragile rage burst when Jungjoon was changing.

“Hraaaagh—!”

Yoonhae let out a guttural scream and charged at him. Half-undressed, Jungjoon took wild punches to his back.

“What are you doing…!”

Turning, Jungjoon shouted in anger. Trying to block with one hand, an enraged Yoonhae flailed at him like a wild animal. Dodging, Jungjoon grimaced and reached out with both hands. Despite being 40cm shorter, Yoonhae wasn’t easy to subdue. Taking hits here and there, Jungjoon finally grabbed him, only to be met with kicks. The hard, sharp blows sent stinging pain wherever they landed.

“Stop! I said stop!”

It was useless. Feeling the genuine force behind the hits fueled Jungjoon’s anger even more.

“Hraa, ugh, ughaaagh—!”

Yoonhae couldn’t control his fury, like a madman. Nothing about his raging face looked childlike. It was the face of a lunatic. Holding his arms for minimal defense, Jungjoon, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, looked down at the seething Yoonhae and finally lost it, hurling him aside.

Thud—!

The body flew farther than expected, landing with a heavy sound. Before Jungjoon could process the shock, a wail erupted.

“Huh, hraaaagh, ughaaaagh—!”

It was a scream, indistinguishable from crying or shouting.

“…….”

Watching him sob as if in agony, Jungjoon oddly calmed down. Initially startled, seeing Yoonhae cry out in distress strangely steadied him.

Standing still, he left the wailing Yoonhae and headed for the door. The farther he walked, the fainter the shrieks became. Fleeing from a sound no human should make, Jungjoon kept going.

Leaving the orphanage, he wandered aimlessly. He wanted to see his girlfriend but couldn’t. Knowing where she lived didn’t help—he had no way to contact her, so it’d be a wasted trip.

Lingering regretfully near her neighborhood, he roamed for two hours. Only when his body grew cold and a cough emerged did he drag his heavy feet back to the orphanage.

There, in the courtyard, he faced Yoonhae, who greeted him with a completely shifted demeanor.

“…H-Hyung…”

Empty eyes. A fumbling hand reaching out. Reflexively, Jungjoon stepped back.

“S-Sorry…!”

Yoonhae shouted an apology and dropped to his knees on the dirt. As Jungjoon lost the will to enter, Yoonhae shuffled toward him on his knees.

“I-I w-won’t d-do it a-again… I w-won’t h-hit hyung a-again, o-okay…? I s-swear…! E-Even if I d-die, I w-won’t…!”

Pleading, he clutched one of Jungjoon’s legs.

“S-Sorry… uh…?”

“…….”

“S-Sorryyy…!”

His face, clinging to Jungjoon’s leg and looking up, grew even more grotesque. Desperate, shining eyes, parched, cracked lips, and a lifeless, shadowed complexion—he looked like someone starved too long.

Jungjoon stood expressionless, letting him do as he pleased.

“D-Don’t h-hate m-me… o-okay? D-Don’t h-hate m-me…”

Watching him beg, Jungjoon silently retorted inside. He’d hated him for a long time already.

“H-Hyung… I l-love y-you…”

I hate you.

“…I l-love y-you…”

I hate you so much I could go mad.

That night, Jungjoon had a nightmare. Waking drenched in cold sweat, he found himself in Yoonhae’s embrace.

Shuddering as he broke free, he couldn’t fall back asleep. Yoonhae’s actions and face from today wouldn’t leave his mind. His punching and wailing looked like a betrayed lover’s. Like a lunatic driven mad by a lovers’ quarrel—it was chilling.

The reason for Yoonhae’s outburst today was unclear. But Jungjoon had a hunch. That suspicion turned to certainty days later when his secretly stashed letter from his girlfriend vanished.

“…Lee Yoonhae. If you’re honest, I’ll forgive you.”

Jungjoon called him over and pressed him.

“The letter I tucked in my book. Where’d you take it?”

Yoonhae didn’t flinch, just gave an odd look.

“…I d-don’t k-know…”

His hypocrisy was infuriating. Jungjoon sighed deeply, pressing his forehead.

“So you won’t talk till the end. Fine.”

His chest went cold. As he turned to leave, Yoonhae grabbed his arm.

“I-I d-didn’t d-do it…! C-Choi Eunki a-and K-Kim Kyungwon t-took it w-without p-permission…!”

Jungjoon knew it was a lie. Still, he dragged Yoonhae along to confront the accused.

“Did you guys take a letter from my book?”

The named kids looked visibly flustered.

“Uh, that was Lee Yoonhae who—”

“D-Don’t l-lie, d-don’t l-lie—!”

As they started to speak, Yoonhae lunged forward, yelling. His unstammering roar startled them. For some reason, just that made their faces pale instantly.

“Lee Yoonhae.”

Jungjoon called his name from behind.

“Return it now, and I’ll forgive you. Bring it back.”

“…I-It w-wasn’t m-me… I-I d-didn’t d-do it…”

“Where’d you put the letter?”

This time, he grilled the others. They hesitated, glancing at each other.

“It got torn up… and flushed down the toilet…”

Finally, one confessed.

“I-I t-told them n-not t-to…! I s-said n-not t-to d-do it! I-It’s h-hyung’s, s-so d-don’t t-touch it, I t-told y-you, y-you b-bastards!”

Yoonhae shouted, frenzied. Seeing his flushed profile, his theatrical tone, and unnaturally wide eyes, Jungjoon felt sick.

…They threw it away.

Overwhelmed with emptiness, Jungjoon left, no longer needing to stay.

Exiting the orphanage, he headed straight for the hill out back. Uncontrollable emotions drove his steps there.

Crunching dead leaves underfoot, he heard overlapping sounds. Looking back, someone was following. Through the thick bushes and trees, that maddening face appeared.

Jungjoon sped up. With legs as long as an average man’s, he strode ahead. Panicked footsteps trailed behind.

He climbed the hill fast enough to choke on his breath. Veering off marked paths, he recklessly roamed the woods. Nearly falling several times, he pressed through treacherous terrain.

After rampaging through the forest for a while, he descended. Reaching the base and heading back, no sound followed him anymore.

Yoonhae returned to the orphanage an hour later, scratched and battered from falls. Jungjoon ignored his exhausted, filthy state completely.

“H-Hyung…”

A grimy hand grabbed Jungjoon’s hem. “H-Hyung… hyung…” came the pitiful calls.

“W-Why… w-why…”

He tugged as if asking why Jungjoon wouldn’t look at him, spouting excuses that didn’t even warrant a hollow laugh.

“I-I d-didn’t d-do it… I-It’s t-true…! I c-can s-swear t-to t-the s-sky…!”

Jungjoon stared at him silently. The longer he looked, the more Yoonhae’s face crumpled into tears.

“…D-Don’t d-do t-that…”

“…….”

“D-Don’t l-look a-at m-me l-like t-that…!”

Jungjoon didn’t know what he meant. Turning away, he caught his reflection in a mirror and instantly understood.

Indeed, it wasn’t a gaze one would give “another person.”

⟡˖ ࣪

Shortly after starting high school, Jungjoon broke up with his girlfriend. She quit her part-time job, and with no way to meet, it naturally faded.

For a while, he was too busy adjusting to high school. The orphanage, his job—every day pressed down on him relentlessly. Maybe that’s why the breakup didn’t hit as despairing or sad as he’d expected. It was just a jolt in his chest seeing a familiar back on the street or a pang in his gut passing memory-laden places.

Jungjoon spent his days hastening his plans. His mind churned secretly. Originally set for next year, he’d decided to leave the orphanage this year instead.

This summer, he’d leave for good.

The tipping point came a month ago. Jungjoon discovered Yoonhae secretly buying and storing “omega manifestation enhancers.” Days earlier, he’d also found the cold medicine Yoonhae gave him laced with it.

Realizing everything, Jungjoon vomited on the spot. Though days had passed, the nausea was unbearable.

He didn’t even think to confront or yell at Yoonhae. All he could think was to leave—to escape as fast as possible.

He couldn’t wait for the stipend anymore. The orphanage was already chaotic with fights between older kids and the director over unpaid stipends. With no guarantee he’d get it, staying till next year seemed foolish.

He resolved to leave with what he’d saved. Quit school, work construction—anything to earn money. Surely, in this vast world, there’d be a place for him.

By the time he’d prepared, summer had arrived. The season he first met Yoonhae had come around again.

“Yoonhae-ya.”

“…Huh?”

“How about hanging out with hyung for once?”

The day before leaving, Jungjoon decided to make memories with Yoonhae. It was the last gift he could give before parting.

Unaware of his intentions, Yoonhae’s face lit up, and he hugged Jungjoon tightly. Overwhelmed by Jungjoon patting his back, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I’ve been on edge and cold to him all this time…

A fleeting guilt brushed him, but that was it. No sense of duty or debt toward Yoonhae remained in Jungjoon.

Holding hands, they left the orphanage and took the subway. They headed to an amusement park Yoonhae had long begged to visit.

After a long wait, they reached the grand entrance with its towering walls. Yoonhae craned his neck, already entranced. Clutching Jungjoon’s hand, he repeated a promise in a jubilant tone: “I-I’ll l-listen t-to h-hyung f-from n-now o-on…” As if vowing so would bring them back, he said it over and over.

Once inside after buying tickets, Jungjoon got swept up too. He’d been here years ago on a field trip, but everything still felt novel. Flashing lights, people with headbands, dizzying rides that drew gasps…

They rode everything Yoonhae wanted, unrestrained, as long as height allowed. Of all the rides, Yoonhae loved the pirate ship most, swinging back and forth. Despite its scariness, he’d grab Jungjoon’s hand at the peak, striking victory poses with glee.

When hunger hit, they snacked on churros and hot dogs. Even after dark, they stayed, watching a dazzling parade from the front row. Mesmerized by sights unseen anywhere else, Yoonhae was utterly captivated.

His face, painted by shifting lights, looked more innocent and happy than ever before.

On the subway back, an exhausted Yoonhae passed out. Pillowed on Jungjoon’s lap, he slept soundly, oblivious to the world.

Jungjoon wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders, gazing at his sleeping face. That carefree expression, free of worry, held his attention for a long time.

The next day, rain fell steadily from morning.

Yoonhae groaned with muscle aches, unable to rise from bed. With a fever and no energy, it seemed a cold had set in.

After having so much fun yesterday…

Jungjoon brought warm rice porridge and fed him by hand. After a simple meal, he gave him medicine and laid him back to sleep.

“…Hyung…”

Despite his feverish, flushed face, Yoonhae smiled. It was the lingering joy from yesterday’s fun.

“Sleep now. You’ll feel better.”

“…Mhm…”

Yoonhae grabbed Jungjoon with a hot hand. Too weak to resist, Jungjoon held it gently.

With his other hand, he patted Yoonhae’s chest, lulling him to sleep. Outside, the rain tapped the ground—pit-pat, pit-pat—blending into a drowsy rhythm.

He didn’t know how much time passed like that.

“…Yoonhae-ya.”

At the soft call, Yoonhae didn’t reply, just breathed steadily.

“…….”

Now’s the time to go.

Just let go of his hand.

But why couldn’t he move? He couldn’t even look at Yoonhae’s face anymore. He just stared at the hand he held.

After a long while, he spoke quietly.

“I hope… Yoonhae grows up healthy and becomes a great adult.”

“Mhm…” An unexpected reply came. Startled, thinking he’d woken, Jungjoon soon realized it was sleep-talk and gave a bitter smile.

“Yeah… Yoonhae will definitely do that.”

Carefully, Jungjoon released the hand. Before the warmth faded, he swiftly stood and left the room.

Passing the all-too-familiar, tiresome scenery, he exited the orphanage. Once he took that first step, urgency gripped him, and his pace quickened.

He headed to the back to retrieve the bag he’d packed at dawn. In the abandoned, ruin-like garden, he parted the underbrush to reveal a black backpack. Lifting it, Jungjoon sensed something off.

“…….”

It was far too light compared to before. Setting it down, he saw the zipper slightly open. Frowning suspiciously, he yanked it wide. The money hidden deep inside was completely gone.

“What…”

It’d been there at dawn. Now, it’d vanished without a trace. No matter how he rummaged, only clothes and essentials remained. It was like a ghost had played a trick.

No way.

It couldn’t be.

No one came here—why, who… His mind tangled like a spool of thread. Panicked, Jungjoon knelt there, frozen for a moment.

Soon, he tossed aside his umbrella and bolted. Clutching the bag, he ran to the hill behind the orphanage.

“Huff… huff…”

Breathing raggedly, he searched for the buried money spot. Finding it, he clawed at the grass and dirt like a madman. Soon, the familiar jar lid appeared, and beneath it, the hidden money. Collapsing with a groan, he felt relief.

Thank goodness…

Really, thank goodness…

Tears of relief pricked his eyes knowing this, at least, hadn’t been stolen. But the brief respite gave way to deep despair.

“…….”

In truth, this money was untouchable. It was meant to be left for Yoonhae. Sure, most was his, but Yoonhae’s savings were mixed in. More than that, it was essential for Yoonhae’s comfort here or his future after leaving.

“Haa…”

Jungjoon let out a sigh like a sob. He didn’t want to accept this reality. In a nightmare worse than any dream, grief threatened to knock him out.

The agony twisted his insides. Rubbing the dirt in despair, Jungjoon admitted his plan had failed. Losing the usable money meant everything was for naught.

…Should I go back?

That was his only option now. What had he struggled so hard for? Suddenly, all motivation drained away.

Should I just die here…

Death might be easier. Die here or live like the dead back there—it all felt the same.

His consciousness sank into darkness. Resigned, his body slumped, and he felt his cells dying slowly, like sinking into a swamp.

Jungjoon lay there in helplessness and defeat for a long time. Only when his head and back were soaked did he rise, his face corpse-like. He stuffed the money envelope into his backpack.

Brushing off the muddy body, tears streamed from his eyes.

He couldn’t die here, nor could he go back.

Clutching the backpack like a lifeline, Jungjoon crossed through the rain.