PSY CH 18

The first time he met that kid was at his Grandpa’s gambling place.

Every Sunday, his Grandpa would drag him to the bathhouse. His Grandpa’s hands were rough as he scrubbed him, and the water was unbearably hot, so he never really enjoyed the bath. But the banana milk they drank afterward was always a treat. So even though he complained, he still followed Grandpa there every week.

Then one day, he remembered it was summer.

After the bath, Jooyoung’s Grandpa took him to a seafood restaurant. In the sweltering heat, Jooyoung just wanted to go home and kept whining. To soothe him, his Grandpa bought him a cone of ice cream—something he normally wouldn’t buy because it was too expensive. 

It was located at the far end of a fish market along the coastline. Following the owner’s guidance, they went to a large room on the second floor, where elderly men were gathered, playing cards.

Seeing Jooyoung for the first time, the old men threw out a few comments.

“That kid looks just like a girl. Let’s check if he has a little something down there?”

Among them, there were a few who played mischievous pranks. When Jooyoung screamed and ran away, laughter erupted. After slipping some allowance money into his tiny hands, they finally settled down to play a serious game of Go-Stop.

Then, Jooyoung would played with the fire truck his mom had sent him as a gift. Lying on his stomach eating ice cream, he hummed a song he’d once heard on TV. Playing alone was nothing new to him—he was used to it, having no kids his age around.

The sliding door opened when the gambling game was in full swing, and a burly old man walked in. He angrily took off his shoes and, throwing the child’s arm that he had been gripping tightly, let go. The child staggered and barely stood up straight.

He was a thin boy like long-dried jerky.

“Go play over there.”

The other adults greeted the child, saying, “Is that Dohyun?” but the old man, ignoring the child, immediately plopped down at the card table.

“Quickly, deal the cards.”

“Ah, calm down a bit.”

The person sitting across from him chuckled and began dealing the cards. Soon, the crisp sound of the Go-Stop cards being thrown echoed through the thick cigarette smoke.

Jooyoung grew curious at the sight of someone his age. He stared intently at the kid hesitantly making his way over. But the spark of interest in Jooyoung’s eyes quickly faded. Even by the neighborhood’s standards, the kid looked especially tacky.

“…”

Instinctively, the boy must have sensed that Jooyoung wasn’t welcoming him, as he remained motionless, sitting like a mouse. He didn’t speak first. He seemed completely uninterested, hugging his knees and resting his chin on them, with his head down.

But every so often, he would glance up and glance at Jooyoung. The length and frequency of the glances gradually increased.

Jooyoung, still eating his ice cream, turned his head to look at him.

“What?”

The boy blinked in apparent confusion, his eyes wide like a cow’s.

“Why do you keep staring?”

In response, the boy hesitated.

“I wasn’t looking.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t looking…”

His voice trailed off, and his face, pressed into his knees, seemed about to sink into the ground at any moment. With his deeply tanned skin and bleached hair with highlights, he didn’t seem like the quiet type—but for some reason, he looked completely intimidated.

Jooyoung impulsively spoke while eating his ice cream.

“Want some?”

The boy snapped his head up and swallowed his saliva. He stared back and forth between Jooyoung and the ice cream for a long time, then awkwardly hunched his neck. 

“I can have some?”

“…”

“Here.”

Jooyoung pushed himself up slightly, propping himself on his hands. He offered the ice cream, and the boy, hesitating at first, slowly came closer, crouched on all fours, and took a bite, keeping his head down. 

Jooyoung smiled proudly.

“Isn’t it good?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically, almost as if his neck would break off.

After giving him a bite, Jooyoung felt it was enough and pulled the ice cream back, noticing a small mark from the boy’s front teeth. Suddenly, his appetite dropped when he realized the ice cream had been touched by the boy’s saliva. After a moment of hesitation, he stretched his white arm out and offered the ice cream again.

“You finish it.”

The boy, who had been licking the ice cream off his upper lip, looked up in surprise.

“If you don’t want it, just say so.”

“Ah, no, not it. I don’t hate it.”

It was a shame that he didn’t get to eat the crispy cone, but he could always ask for another one when they were on their way home. Except for when he acted out, Grandpa usually gave in to Jooyoung. If Jooyoung had been well-behaved on his own, Grandpa would likely go to the store with a face that said he couldn’t buy ice cream, but still would.

The boy hurriedly took the ice cream, holding it with both hands and slowly licking it. It seemed like he was desperately trying to control himself from eating too fast, almost as if it was his first time eating ice cream. His dark eyes shimmered like pebbles, and his cheeks had a soft blush.

“So, what’s your name?”

Jooyoung asked in an indifferent tone.

“I said, what’s your name?”

When the boy didn’t answer immediately, Jooyoung pressed on. The boy’s lips, smeared with ice cream, cautiously parted.

“Dohyu.”

“Dohyu?”

What kind of name is that? Jooyoung looked at him with a puzzled expression. The boy quickly wiped his lips with his sleeve, his voice subdued as he hurriedly added. 

“Dohyun.”

“….”

“Hwang Dohyun.”

His pronunciation was clearer than before. Jooyoung mumbled to himself, “Hwang Dohyun…” before losing interest. He could still feel the boy’s gaze on him, but he didn’t pay it any mind.

After that, Jooyoung gave Dohyun things every now and then, almost like a gesture of kindness. Sometimes it was half-eaten snacks, other times toys he had grown tired of playing with.

“Wow, haengnim-ah!”

Whenever that happened, Dohyun’s eyes would light up, and he’d let out an exaggerated exclamation. No matter what Jooyoung gave him, he never refused.

Even if it was…

The faint ringing in his ears began to fade, and slowly, his sense of reality returned. On the floor, a pattern resembling tightly interwoven pebbles was drawn. Jooyoung lifted his head, which he had been bowing. Dohyun playfully tilted his chin, as if daring Jooyoung to speak.

There was a stark contrast between Dohyun and Jooyoung, who had been eaten away by anxiety and unease. There was a calm confidence about Dohyun. Maybe that’s why—the boy from his childhood and the man now casually threatening him felt like two entirely different people. 

“Huh? Say something, will you?”

His eyes sparkled as if there were stars in them. His genuine curiosity was enough to tighten Jooyoung’s chest. 

“…”

Jooyoung clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. Despite the sharp pain, the tension coursing through his body showed no signs of releasing. What was he supposed to do in this situation? The more he struggled, the deeper he sank, like being trapped in a swamp.

“If you’re going to stay quiet, I’ll leave too.”

Dohyun purposefully picked up his phone. Jooyoung’s fingertips twitched noticeably. His eyelids fluttered nervously. It was a physical reaction he couldn’t control.

“You’re flinching, huh?”

Seeing Dohyun dangle the phone lightly, something surged from within Jooyoung. He knew exactly what Jooyoung was most afraid of. 

He thought about it every day. Why was Dohyun doing this? But the answer remained elusive. Dohyun’s attitude was clear yet vague, and just when Jooyoung thought he was getting close, the clue slipped away, like sand in his hands. Threats and hostility. What was the underlying motive? Jooyoung couldn’t understand it.

“If you need someone to be your lackey, go look somewhere else.”

Suddenly, Jooyoung recalled something Dohyun had said before. He claimed there was nothing bothering him. He only reacted to Jooyoung’s nostalgic talk about friendship with mockery. But Jooyoung had clearly sensed the unmistakable hostility behind his words.

Would someone who felt neither hurt nor regret have any reason to harbor hostility?

With eyes as sharp as a cat’s, Jooyoung stared directly at his opponent. He asked, his lips curling into a faint, bitter smile.

“…You really have nothing to ask me?”

Was it an unexpected question? Dohyun raised an eyebrow. Jooyoung spoke with clear intent.

“You were my little sidekick, weren’t you?”

“…”

“You always had a ton of expectations from me.”

Dohyun’s index finger, which had been tapping the counter in rhythm, froze. Suspended in mid-air, it didn’t move an inch.

In that moment, Jooyoung regretted his words. He hastily bit his lower lip, but it was already too late. The ticking of a clock—sounds that should have been impossible to hear—seemed to echo in his ears. Tick-tock, like a bomb waiting to explode.

The face that had been smiling throughout the conversation suddenly became cold and distant. The atmosphere shifted abruptly, so sharply that Jooyoung felt a chill.

“…Hah.”

After a long stretch of deep, heavy silence, Dohyun suddenly burst into laughter. At first, it was a light chuckle, as though air was escaping. But it soon escalated until his left shoulder slumped and his body trembled slightly. Jooyoung’s dazed gaze settled on his shaking head.

After a moment, Dohyun stopped laughing and lifted his head.

“…Well, I guess there were plenty.”

Dohyun slowly rubbed his jaw, staring into the air. His lips still held a smile, but his eyes were cold. After a moment, the frosty gaze shifted to Jooyoung.

“So?”

“…”

“Should we play house, then?”

He dismissed everything Jooyoung had hoped for as nothing more than childish make-believe, as if their relationship had ended ten years ago.

Then, as if he had just realized something, he said, “Ah.”

“Police and thief, I guess that’s something we could play.”

“Hwang Dohyun…!”

Jooyoung called out desperately. His eyes seemed on the verge of tears, his previously intense glare crumbling like sand in an instant. He was clearly the weaker one in this dynamic, the prey caught in Dohyun’s grasp. And Dohyun was no longer the child he’d known.

“Can’t you just think about it a little longer?”

“…”

“If you c-call the police, you won’t gain anything.” 

It was true. Dohyun had nothing to gain from this, and yet, it seemed like he was enjoying the situation far too much. There was clearly something he wanted. Jooyoung clung to that hope.

“Maybe… just think about it a bit more, and just…” 

“Looks like I’m starting to get the situation.” 

Jooyoung hesitated, almost as if begging, but it didn’t escape Dohyun’s attention. He wore an odd smile.

“This is why people shouldn’t live with guilt, you know?”

He pointed at Jooyoung with the palm of his hand, still holding the phone, giving a casual tilt of his chin. 

Jooyoung’s heart sank. He was trembling before Dohyun, who was as calm as ever, and it hit him. This was the moment when their power dynamics were crystal clear. His face burned with the sting of humiliation.

This was a shame—something he hadn’t been able to recognize until now, buried beneath all the anxiety.

“…”

Jooyoung bit down on his lower lip hard. He’d always seen Dohyun as less than him—someone who would do anything, even pretend to die at Jooyoung’s words. But now, it was Dohyun holding the reins, controlling Jooyoung’s every breath.

The emotions Jooyoung had failed to recognize until now overwhelmed him. Shame, fear, and anger bubbled together inside him, churning in a boiling mess. It felt like there was no way out.