WOP Ch 4.1

— He’s not answering…

Unable to bear the repeated message, Seo Youngwoo roughly put down his cell phone. His fingertips, about to press the call button, hesitated for a moment. His gaze at the unresponsive device held only bottomless despair.

‘I’m planning to stay at my parents’ house for a while.’

‘Hyung!’

‘I’m sorry, Youngwoo. I just want to rest a bit. My family wants me to as well.’

‘But…’

‘It won’t be long. Just a few months. We can still meet and everything, so don’t worry too much.’

Last weekend, just before they parted ways, Kang Taejung informed Seo Youngwoo that he would be returning to his family home for a while. Youngwoo was angry at the unilateral decision made without any discussion, but Taejung’s expression was so downcast that he couldn’t argue further.

As Taejung had said, not much changed outwardly. As always, Kang Taejung replied to Seo Youngwoo’s messages mechanically. The affectionate greetings asking about his well-being and daily life remained the same, as did his warm voice. However, he never initiated contact. He never suggested they meet. The distance felt like they were back to when they first met.

Things were slowly getting better, he was slowly opening up to me.

His tightly closed eyes trembled. It was hard to simply accept the statement about staying at his family home as just a change of residence. Wasn’t his ex-lover living not far away? It also meant that if he wanted to, or even by chance, there were plenty of opportunities to meet.

Youngwoo knew how much each encounter with Ha Joyoon would affect Kang Taejung, especially when things weren’t completely resolved between them. Even so, he believed in Kang Taejung’s efforts to sort things out with Ha Joyoon and in his consideration for Youngwoo.

But…

Seo Youngwoo held his trembling hands together, his cell phone nestled between them, and rested his forehead against it. The entire device was warm, as if the heat from the battery had spread.

Whoosh— Bang——

At that moment, a window, unable to withstand the cold winter wind, rattled. Startled by the noise that broke the silence, Seo Youngwoo slowly raised his head and looked towards the window. His clouded eyes, filled with guilt and anxiety, swayed, unable to focus. Despite turning the heating up to full blast, he couldn’t shake the chill creeping up from his toes.

If the beginning had been honorable, would it have been like this?

His gentle face contorted with anguish. He felt as if he would eventually be consumed by the constantly gnawing anxiety.

To escape from a reality rife with hypocrisy and deceit, Seo Youngwoo retreated into his own wall of comfort. It was inevitable, it was the best he could do, he tried his best, he did it out of love—a high wall built with countless excuses and lies.

❄

The painting, layered with various shades of blue, was captivating even without any specific depiction, relying solely on its color palette.

Whenever Ha Joyoon visited Shin Kwonjoo’s apartment, he habitually looked at this painting first. He’d etched the multitude of blues into his eyes. The color harmonized well with the distant sound of water pouring from the shower. Perhaps the water washing over him was splitting and cascading down in various shades of blue, just like the artist’s heart.

Joyoon, absorbed in the painting for an unknown amount of time, was brought back to reality by a touch on his shoulder. The freshly showered man’s body carried a pleasant scent of body wash.

“What are you so lost in thought about?”

Their peculiar speech pattern, a mix of formal and informal language, seemed to have completely settled. At some point, Shin Kwonjoo had started speaking comfortably to Ha Joyoon outside of work. Whether he was aware of it or not, from Joyoon’s perspective, it was clear that Kwonjoo was much more at ease with him compared to a few months ago.

In moments like these, Joyoon wondered if the man who had passed him by with such cold eyes a few days ago and the man now standing before him, affectionately touching his earlobe, were the same person.

“I like the painting.”

As if it were a nonsensical answer, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled softly and sat down next to him. It was a rare, pleasant sight. The high-quality mattress springs easily supported the weight of the two men.

“It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen it.”

“That’s true.”

Still fixated on the painting, Ha Joyoon replied listlessly. Shin Kwonjoo watched him for a moment, then said something unexpected.

“Do you want it?”

“If you say I can have it, will you give it to me?”

“Let me think about it.”

His seemingly serious response gave Joyoon the impression he might actually give it to him, so he quickly shook his head.

“I don’t really need it. I don’t know much about paintings.”

As if dissatisfied with the answer, one of the man’s thick eyebrows rose sharply.

“You seem a bit off today. When did you take your medicine?”

“Before I showered.”

“Dry your hair.” Shin Kwonjoo added shortly, covering Ha Joyoon’s head with a dry towel. As Joyoon sat still, Kwonjoo started to dry his hair with the towel, sighing and applying just the right amount of pressure. Joyoon’s body swayed back and forth with the movement of Kwonjoo’s hands. A clear, low chuckle, reminiscent of a flowing river, resonated like a song. With each chuckle, his fingers pressed a little harder against Joyoon’s head.

“Why are you so distracted?”

“Uh…”

Seemingly satisfied with having dried his hair enough, Shin Kwonjoo carelessly tossed the damp towel onto the table and turned to sit.

“You were lost in thought the whole time, weren’t you?”

“Was I?”

Ha Joyoon gave an awkward smile and tilted his head slightly. Actually, he had only intended to talk to Kwonjoo today, not to have sex. However, as soon as he entered the apartment, Kwonjoo had rushed him at the door, leaving no time to even wash up before they tumbled into bed. In truth, he was still dazed and disoriented. Though he hadn’t consciously thought about it, perhaps subconsciously he, too, had wished for it to be the last time. Joyoon suddenly felt a strange disconnect with his own desire-driven actions.

“Don’t you have any photos to show me today?”

Shin Kwonjoo asked abruptly, as if he’d just remembered, while wiping the water droplets from Joyoon’s cheeks.

“Photos?”

“Lately, haven’t you been showing me pictures whenever you stray from your reporting to take some?”

“I wasn’t straying…”

“That’s what you think.”

“I don’t have any today…”

Watching the pensive Ha Joyoon, Shin Kwonjoo lowered his head and kissed him. Their sharp noses brushed against each other, then their noses bumped. What started as a gentle caress quickly escalated into a nibbling of wet lips.

Ha— One of them let out a shallow breath. His legs naturally parted, and a rush of heat concentrated in the place that had just embraced Kwonjoo. Joyoon tilted his head, responding to the fervent kiss that threatened to consume him, following the direction of Shin Kwonjoo’s push.

“Why did you ask to see me today if you weren’t going to do it properly?”

Shin Kwonjoo whispered quickly, taking advantage of a brief pause in the kiss. His weight shifted forward, making it clear that he was ready to continue.

“That’s… um.”

Of course, their lips met again in a deep kiss before Joyoon could answer.

“Do you think I didn’t notice you were distracted the whole time?”

While fully experiencing the pleasure, the unresolved questions and directions of his heart, which had kept him up for nights, intermittently tightened around his throat. He could almost hear the urgent voice echoing in his head: Now, right now— But all the agonizing thoughts and conclusions he had reached vanished without a trace the moment he faced Shin Kwonjoo. As did the unspoken feelings he couldn’t bring himself to express.

Smack, smack. After a long, devouring kiss, Shin Kwonjoo suddenly switched to light butterfly kisses, flitting across Joyoon’s lips and cheeks. His face, cupped in Kwonjoo’s large hands, was moved at will. The kisses were a mixture of ravenous lust and youthful tenderness. The soft, gentle touch had, at some point, started to make his heart beat erratically. The warm touch, the affectionate eyes and hands. But this wasn’t his.

This isn’t good.

This really…

Unbearable emotions welled up in his throat.

“Wait a minute.”

Finally, Ha Joyoon gently pushed Shin Kwonjoo away with both hands and leaned back. Kwonjoo’s face momentarily crumpled at this first sign of refusal.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sunbae-nim. Just a moment.”

His calm voice filled the empty space in his heart. His tone was firm, his emotions controlled. Finding it difficult to continue, Ha Joyoon took a breath and bit his lip.

Shin Kwonjoo watched him silently, then reached out and carelessly rubbed Joyoon’s reddened lips. Tsk. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he spoke.

“If you have something to say, say it properly. Don’t beat around the bush.”

“…….”

“Did something happen?”

Joyoon’s hesitant eyes, finally carrying a resolute heart, met Kwonjoo’s gaze and the life that stretched out behind him.

A strong person, with a heart hardened and tempered. I know that my existence might momentarily shake you in your time and life, but that’s all it will be. So…

Ha Joyoon momentarily allowed Kwonjoo’s playful caress on his cheek before gently taking his wrist and pulling his hand away. Kwonjoo quickly furrowed his brow, seemingly surprised by the second rejection. Before he could ask what was going on, Ha Joyoon calmly confessed his feelings.

“I want to stop this.”

“…What?”

The air instantly froze as soon as the words left his mouth. Joyoon looked back and forth between Kwonjoo’s pale hand resting on his own and his equally pale face. Kwonjoo, in turn, slowly hardened his previously relaxed expression.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other without a word. Shin Kwonjoo’s unreadable eyes seemed both indifferent and not. They were eyes with a duality that could conceal any treacherous emotions.

In the precarious silence, Shin Kwonjoo offered no reaction other than his unwavering gaze. This was quite different from Joyoon’s expectation that Kwonjoo would agree, even if not readily, to end things cleanly without any lingering feelings or regrets. Finally, after a considerable time, Kwonjoo’s lips parted.

“Didn’t we already talk about this before?”

“…….”

“I thought we cleared up the misunderstanding.”

He seemed to be referring to their conversation on the day he visited the hospital. Ha Joyoon quickly shook his head, refuting his words.

“No, this is a different issue.”

His eyes, deep in thought, drifted to the side. His usually composed expression furrowed in tandem. He appeared to be carefully selecting the words and phrases he would use.

Waiting for a response, Ha Joyoon shifted his attention to the painting on the wall. The beautiful azure of the Mediterranean and the deep, dark blue of the ocean depths coexisted. Joyoon knew of oceans resembling this painting and the people who shared them. An ocean for survival for some, an ocean for healing for others, an ocean given as a gift of life for some….

“What’s the reason you’re suddenly saying this?”

Reality finally snapped back into focus. It was a terribly low and rough voice. Turning his gaze, Joyoon saw Shin Kwonjoo sitting in the same position as before.

At his question, Joyoon parted his lips slightly, momentarily speechless. He didn’t know how to answer, and he hadn’t expected Kwonjoo to ask for a reason.

“Tell me.”

Despite the urging, Joyoon simply looked up at him, his lips sealed.

“Ha Joyoon.”

Though his baritone voice was pleasant, his tone was almost harsh. Sensing the urgency in his gaze, Ha Joyoon was at a loss for words. Finally, unable to bear the silence, Shin Kwonjoo grabbed Joyoon’s arm and pulled him closer. Joyoon’s brows furrowed momentarily at the sudden force. Though it was a fleeting reaction, Shin Kwonjoo quickly released his grip with a surprisingly disconcerted expression. Stroking his arm, where a faint warmth lingered, Joyoon blinked slowly.

“There must be a reason.”

“…….”

“You’re usually so articulate. Why aren’t you saying anything?”

His gaze, openly displaying his anxiety without pretense, was unfamiliar. The slightly faster pace and higher pitch of his voice indicated that he was losing his composure.

You’re so strange right now.

Ha Joyoon averted his gaze, tilting his head to the side. A sense of unease pierced his heart. It was a suffocating feeling, like a tie tightening around his neck. Ha Joyoon. His voice, repeatedly calling his name, and his persistent gaze were unfamiliar. Thinking that everything felt strange, Joyoon shifted his body and hardened his expression. Shin Kwonjoo’s face, watching him, suddenly contorted.

“…Is this because of what happened a few days ago?”

His downcast eyes were as dark as burnt embers. Shin Kwonjoo’s expression hardened visibly as he watched Joyoon, who remained silent. Swallowing several times, he habitually reached for his cigarette case, fumbling on the table.

Clack—

The case, grazing his fingertips, made a sharp cracking sound as it tumbled to the floor. His gaze narrowed, following the fallen cigarette case. With a heavy sigh, Shin Kwonjoo bent down and picked it up. He skillfully flipped it open, pulled out a cigarette, and put it in his mouth. A cloud of murky smoke instantly billowed up. Inhaling deeply and exhaling the smoke, Shin Kwonjoo added a question.

“Is it because of my ex-wife?”

“…….”

“I’m asking you.”

“Sunbae-nim….”

Confusion, unmasked by his attempted composure, erupted from him. Without the capacity to consider his own expression, Shin Kwonjoo ran a hand over his face a couple of times and roughly extinguished the barely smoked cigarette. Knowing that a denial wouldn’t be believed, Ha Joyoon held back his words. However, the woman’s image inevitably surfaced along with the question.

The ex-wife’s presence was merely a catalyst. The direct reason for his decision to end the relationship now was the realization of the similarity between the feelings he experienced while observing them and the feelings he experienced when he witnessed Kang Taejung and Seo Youngwoo. However, Joyoon had no intention of explaining his feelings in detail. He didn’t want to burden someone who was leaving in a few months with unnecessary emotional baggage.

“There was nothing for you to worry about. I just had something to take care of.”

“…….”

“If you’re curious about what it was…”

“No…”

Seeing Kwonjoo’s uncharacteristic attempt to explain himself almost defensively, Ha Joyoon shook his head again.

“Were you out with her instead of me?”

The inquisitive questions continued relentlessly. Watching Joyoon’s continued silence, Shin Kwonjoo struggled to recall things he hadn’t paid attention to before. The scene at the time, the atmosphere, the reactions of the employees, and the person who had stared blankly at him amidst it all. However, the result of this effort was futile, as Ha Joyoon’s answer pointed in a completely different direction from what he had hoped.

“That’s not it.”

“Then why?”

His hand, running through his hair, was laced with anxiety and impatience. Ha Joyoon, silently observing the man’s unusual behavior, slowly opened his mouth.

“We can’t keep meeting like this forever… I heard that your return date to headquarters has been set, Sunbae-nim.”

“It’s still a long way off.”

“It’s only a few months.”

“Who said we had to break up immediately just because I’m going back? Why are you getting ahead of—.”

“We agreed to end things immediately if one of us wanted to.”

Kwonjoo’s handsome face contorted as far as it could go. As if unable to comprehend what he had just heard, Shin Kwonjoo was barely suppressing his apparent anger. His emotions seemed to be escalating rapidly. It was an incomprehensible reaction. Sensing his complete lack of understanding, Joyoon calmly brought up a past memory.

“Didn’t we agree on that? I’m just saying what we agreed on.”

“You….”

Those were the words Shin Kwonjoo had once said to him. The surge of anger momentarily halted at the emotionless tone. Shin Kwonjoo, his momentum lost, looked as if he had been caught off guard. His sharp gaze also froze completely.

A silence descended, as if time had stopped. Unable to find the right words, Kwonjoo repeatedly opened and closed his mouth. His face was a mixture of confusion, anger, and bewilderment. A complex emotion, difficult to define, seemed to have taken hold of him. Seeing him like this, so unlike his usual self, always perfectly composed and in control of his emotions, Ha Joyoon took a shallow breath and lowered his head. Unspoken words swirled chaotically within him.

“Is that really the reason?”

A low voice resonated. It was a nuance of final confirmation, a last chance. But at this crossroads, Ha Joyoon didn’t take long to make his decision.

“…Yes.”

The more time they spent together, the more frequent their physical intimacy, the more burdensome the subtle trickles of emotion became. His heart had opened little by little, discovering the possibility of new feelings, but it was one-sided, not something reciprocated or acknowledged.

The manifestation of emotions with differing speeds, directions, and desires was like a labyrinth without an exit. Even the rationalization that it was just a one-sided feeling didn’t hold up. In the end, realizing the unrequited nature of his feelings would inevitably lead to resentment. Despite the fact that Kwonjoo had clearly stated from the beginning that he didn’t want any unnecessary emotional involvement.

…I don’t want to think of you that way. I don’t want to have expectations, and I don’t want to resent you if those expectations are dashed. Because you’re a cold person, but you offered me a small comfort. Regardless of your intentions, your words helped me sort out the thoughts that had been tormenting and haunting me. So, it was right to end this distorted and exhausting relationship while my gratitude still outweighs everything else.

“I’m the one who always said those words, so it feels strange to hear them from you.”

“…….”

“So this is how it feels.”

Shin Kwonjoo murmured, but contrary to his words, there was no trace of a smile on his face. He slowly stroked his sharp jawline. His gaze was cold, but a kindled flame burned quietly within.

“Sunbae-nim.”

“Right… I see.”

Silence fell. A profound stillness, so deep that even their breaths were inaudible. In the air where no words were exchanged and no empathy formed, the silence was broken only after some time.

“Let’s do that.”

At the chillingly cold voice, Ha Joyoon finally raised his head. Shin Kwonjoo’s face, now devoid of the emotions he had shown earlier, had returned to its usual refined and smooth composure. His speech, too, had reverted to the formal tone they had used when they first met. With a strange mix of disappointment and relief, Ha Joyoon exhaled softly.

“We can’t continue a relationship that one of us doesn’t want.”

The perfectly composed man rose to his feet. The sudden change in height naturally tilted Joyoon’s head back. Shin Kwonjoo’s expression, backlit as he looked down, was difficult to discern.

“I understand. Let’s end it. From tomorrow, I hope we can maintain a good professional relationship.”

With a completely impassive face, Shin Kwonjoo extended his hand for a handshake. It was a concise and clear ending, just as he had initially proposed.

There was no trace of emotion in his piercing gaze. Joyoon thought it was fortunate that he was the only one hurting. If he managed his own feelings well, they could return to a professional relationship. It wasn’t a deeply developed feeling yet, just a beginning, so suppressing and uprooting it wouldn’t be difficult.

He had already let go of the most precious and significant feeling of his life. The emotions he felt afterward were merely extensions of that, so there was no need for further pain or regret. The flicker he thought he’d seen in Kwonjoo’s eyes must have been his own wishful thinking.

“Yes. Thank you for everything.”

“…Yes. I was quite satisfied as well.”

Nodding slightly, Ha Joyoon took Shin Kwonjoo’s outstretched hand. Although his expression was cold, the heat radiating from his palm was so intense that Joyoon instinctively flinched. Contrary to Joyoon’s expectation that he would turn away immediately, Shin Kwonjoo held his thin hand for a long time.

The golden light fell on the man’s broad shoulders. His body, motionless for hours, showed no sign of moving. How much more time passed? His hand, which had been resting on his knee, slowly moved to his forehead. The blue veins running from the back of his hand to his forearm were prominently raised, as if indicating suppressed anger.

‘We agreed to end things immediately if one of us wanted to…’

‘Didn’t we agree on that? I’m just saying what we agreed on.’

Shin Kwonjoo, with a rare frown, struggled to recall the person he had been with just a few hours ago. What was his expression, his tone of voice, his gestures, his gaze? He continued to rummage through his memories, even though he knew it was futile.

The afterimage of the thin, pale hand slipping from his grasp lingered in his mind. A sharp pain shot up his arm, and Shin Kwonjoo gritted his teeth, roughly rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t accustomed to this kind of emotion and turmoil.

The humid air tickled his cheeks. A faint smile crept onto his lips, which had been frozen like a fossil. The emotion expressed by the upturned corner of his mouth was clearly derision.

He recognized the contradiction in his endless thoughts. But even so, nothing would change. One of them had proposed an end to the relationship, and he had accepted. That should have been the end of it. Even if there were lingering emotions, he knew from countless past experiences that they would eventually disappear without a trace. The unusual feelings that had been swirling within him for the past few months, the uncharacteristic behavior, would eventually return to normal. So there was no reason to feel this unpleasantness.

However, despite his endless rationalizations, Shin Kwonjoo couldn’t understand the situation. He almost scoffed at his own inefficient mind, searching for other possibilities even when there were none left to explore.

Blocking out the aimless stream of thoughts, Shin Kwonjoo forced his weary body to stand. His condition was the worst it had been in years. He had a mountain of work to do over the weekend, so it would be best to get some sleep. But even as he mechanically considered his schedule, unproductive questions endlessly repeated themselves in the back of his mind.

Why, how?

Beneath the tightly sealed entrance, formed over a long period, the turbulent currents of his heart had long since escaped his control. The tightening sensation in his chest was quite unfamiliar. And immediately, a warning arose from somewhere within him, urging him to stop thinking and focus on what he needed to do.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Shin Kwonjoo walked towards the bedroom. The expression visible between his hand movements as he wiped his face was darker than before, hardened like stone.

His jet-black eyes suddenly fixed on something. His gaze landed on the half-open bedroom door. It was the place where he had led and relentlessly taken the dazed person just hours ago. The space, which just a few hours ago had been filled with an unprecedented fullness, now awaited him, exuding an air of colorlessness and dryness.

❄

By the time he finished moving the last of his belongings, it was well into the afternoon. Dusk had already fallen outside, making him realize how much shorter the days had become in just a week. Taejung sat down amidst the haphazardly stacked boxes, exhaustion evident on his amiable face.

“Are you all settled in?”

His eyes crinkled slightly at the sight of his mother entering the room.

“Mostly.”

“You’ve worked hard. I’m so glad you’re back home. It felt so empty with just your father and me….”

At her wistful tone, Kang Taejung smiled sheepishly and lowered his head slightly. However, the reason he had finally decided to move back home was purely selfish.

“I wouldn’t mind if you moved back in permanently.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He responded to his mother’s coaxing with a gentle smile.

He wanted to be with Ha Joyoon without worrying about anyone’s gaze. Between him and Joyoon, childhood friends whose parents were also close, there were many real-world obstacles. He had vaguely thought they would have to address it someday, but in their mid-twenties, it seemed distant and difficult. Above all, he didn’t want Ha Joyoon, who had a limited social circle, to face public ridicule and rejection from his family.

That fear had trapped him. His ensnared heart had confined the countless hours they spent together within the boundaries of friendship. But who could he blame now?

“Time for dinner.”

“I have plans, I need to go out.”

“You already have plans on the weekend, right after moving back? That hurts my feelings….”

“I’m sorry. It’s a high school reunion. I haven’t been able to make it for years, so they insisted I come this time. I’ll be back early.”

“Well, I can’t stop you then… Your father isn’t coming home tonight either.”

“I’ll be back before midnight.”

Heaving a sigh that had become a habit, Kang Taejung stared at the window of the building opposite his. A small window, its interior hidden by curtains. That was all it was, but even just looking at it made his heart ache. His feelings were so tangled that he couldn’t define the pain he felt. It was a mixture of regret, longing, and guilt.

“If it’s a reunion, Yoon will be there too, right?”

At the name that pained him even to hear, Kang Taejung flinched involuntarily. Joyoon had never been interested in such gatherings unless Taejung personally brought him along. He knew Joyoon wouldn’t be there, yet he couldn’t answer easily.

Unaware of her son’s inner turmoil, his mother continued in a calm tone.

“You should look after him. Knowing Yoon’s personality, he probably won’t go.”

His limp fingers stiffened one by one. Ha Joyoon, who had no one. Ha Joyoon, who, aside from photographs, had only him to connect with.

“Now that you’re back home, bring Yoon over sometime. I haven’t seen him since he briefly came over after returning to Korea.”

“I will.”

Leaving the relentlessly flowing past behind, he checked the message he had received that morning. It contained the details of the evening gathering: the location, time, and other information. As he scanned and absorbed each word, a cowardly hope blossomed within him.

Will you be there?

He entertained the possibility, then quickly dismissed it. He scoffed at his own meager hope for a chance encounter, especially after he had hurt and pushed Joyoon away when he had been the one reaching out. His flawless features contorted. The hole in his chest grew larger with time, showing no signs of closing. The unknown wind within the hole was powerful and relentless, threatening to sweep away everything he held dear.

❄

“Taejung! Long time no see! You punk, you haven’t shown your face around here in ages.”

“Haha. Things have been hectic.”

“Only you?”

Kang Taejung let out an empty laugh as he accepted a glass of alcohol from an old classmate amidst the boisterous atmosphere. The dim lighting, the thick cigarette smoke, and the scattered bottles hinted at the mood.

There was usually a high school reunion at the end of the year. However, since Joyoon’s disappearance, Taejung had completely stopped attending, so this was his first proper attendance in a long time.

He recalled the last reunion he had attended. Six years ago, the last memory was of him dragging a reluctant Ha Joyoon along. It’s been a long time, Taejung thought, smiling bitterly.

Ha Joyoon disliked crowded places. It hadn’t always been that way, but as he realized that his peers ridiculed and ostracized him for being quiet and slow to react, Joyoon’s discomfort had only worsened over the years.

Worried about his lover, who still struggled to socialize even as he got older, Taejung had often taken Joyoon to gatherings whenever he had the opportunity. He had firmly believed that it would help him.

Joyoon never once expressed discomfort, even though he might have found Taejung’s self-righteous actions bothersome. He would endure the uncomfortable atmosphere, staying until the end and trying his best to participate in conversations. Back then, Taejung had simply found that endearing. Looking back, it had only been for his own satisfaction.

He didn’t regret the past. He had done his best, and he had loved with all his heart. But occasionally, he wondered if it had truly been the right thing to do. Had the things he had done in Joyoon’s name actually been for his own self-satisfaction? Had he, in fact, suffocated him and clipped his wings? Such self-reproach floated aimlessly within him.

He recalled Ha Joyoon’s gaze from their encounter a few days prior, a gaze that had looked at him as if he were a stranger. Kang Taejung winced, his brows furrowing in pain.

Thump.

“What are you thinking so hard about that your face looks like that?”

At the sound of the table being struck, Taejung’s eyes snapped open. A man with gentle features and thin, silver-rimmed glasses sat in front of him. It was Lim Dohyun.

“Dohyun.”

“It’s been months. Were you that busy this year? I couldn’t get a hold of you no matter how many times I tried to contact you.”

“I was a little busy. Really. Like doctors are the only busy people in the world.”

“Good to know.”

Scratching his neatly combed back hair, Lim Dohyun laughed ruefully. Taejung responded appropriately to his easygoing manner, pouring alcohol into his empty glass. The clear liquid filled the glass. In that small glass, countless emotions and memories floated aimlessly like suspended particles.

“Joyoon didn’t come?”

The motion of emptying his glass stopped abruptly. Before the chilling feeling could fully register, Taejung set the glass down and stared at the person sitting in front of him. Throughout high school, Joyoon had always stayed by his side, never interacting with other classmates. It was strange to see a classmate casually asking about him. Unaware of the sudden shift in atmosphere, Lim Dohyun continued speaking with a friendly smile.

“You know, you and Ha Joyoon are a package deal. You always came together, so I thought you’d be here together today. I told him about the reunion, but he didn’t say whether he was coming or not.”

“…How do you know?”

“Huh?”

“Have you seen Yoon recently?”

Six months had passed, but very few people, besides his family and Taejung, knew of Ha Joyoon’s return. Many were still unaware of his disappearance. They had mainly sought help and reached out to those professionally connected to Joyoon. At least as far as Taejung knew, Lim Dohyun fell into the latter category. Dohyun’s expression grew increasingly bewildered with each question.

“That’s…”

Kang Taejung’s eyes darkened as Dohyun struggled to speak. Someone who, besides family and colleagues, would know about Ha Joyoon’s return. Suddenly, a realization flashed through his mind.

“Dohyun.”

“Uh, uh?”

The man stammered, hastily taking a drink.

“You work at Hankang University Hospital, right?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Dohyun’s broad shoulders twitched. With that, the disparate pieces began to fall into place.

‘I wasn’t visiting your company. The hospital I work at is here.’

‘I’ve been working here for a few months. So don’t misunderstand. Okay? I won’t do anything to bother you anymore…’

Hankang University Hospital. Lim Dohyun. Neurosurgery resident. …Ha Joyoon. As the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, the hand covering his face trembled intermittently.

Right… I see.

He exhaled a shaky breath onto his palm. Ha Joyoon leaving the hospital, Ha Joyoon sitting on the street.

The image of Joyoon, pale and sweating, swirled and collided chaotically in his mind. After a long silence, Kang Taejung finally managed to open his mouth.

“Is Yoon… your patient?”

“Huh? Hey, hey—your glass is empty.”

As Lim Dohyun hastily refilled his glass, attempting to change the subject, Taejung grabbed his wrist.

“How is Yoon’s condition? You know, don’t you? Is it serious?”

Lim Dohyun, looking at Taejung with an expression of distress, sighed and put down the bottle. After a moment of searching for the right words, he asked seriously,

“Weren’t you close with Yoon?”

Taejung’s eyes, which had been shining intensely, wavered at the calm voice. Taejung. Letting out another deep sigh, Lim Dohyun continued.

“Even if Yoon were my patient, I can’t tell you anything.”

“…….”

“I know you’re close with Yoon, but even friends are ultimately strangers. I can’t force myself to tell you anything, even to his family, if he doesn’t want me to. If you’re really curious, ask Yoon directly. And if he doesn’t tell you, it means he doesn’t want to talk about it, so don’t pry. It’s his private life.”

Strangers.

A decisive conclusion and the precise word that defined his position in relation to Ha Joyoon, who was neither family nor lover, not even a friend. Indescribable emotions swirled within him. In that maelstrom, the truth he had forcibly repressed resurfaced. Strangers. People with no relationship. A relationship he should no longer care about or be concerned with. A relationship he had traded for an emotion as intense as a burning fire, threatening to consume him to the bone.

“Right…”

“Taejung.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Strangers… we’re strangers. I’m sorry, I got a little worked up.”

“No, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

Only then, at Taejung’s apology, did Lim Dohyun nod with a more relaxed expression.

He had abandoned Joyoon because he couldn’t spend the rest of his life with a love he couldn’t handle. Instead, he had found the courage to start anew in a peaceful and stable life, comforted by a new, affectionate lover.

‘It feels a little strange to hear you say that. But thank you for your concern…’

Joyoon’s awkward expression, the way he had looked at him as if he were a stranger, the moment he seemed to have completely forgotten him – these were all things he had to accept.

Draining the remaining alcohol, Kang Taejung was overwhelmed by the flood of unpleasant memories. Before you came back, I was slowly but surely forgetting you. As I forgot you, I felt the desire to lean on someone else. Because I realized that nothing lasts forever.

So…

‘Taejung, Taejung.’

‘What.’

‘I took a picture. Want to see it?’

‘You showed me plenty yesterday.’

‘I took a different one today.’

‘…Really? Then let me see.’

‘I don’t like flowers, so I took pictures of insects this time.’

‘…It’s all the same. Your mom worries when you keep taking these kinds of pictures. You should go out and do other things.’

‘But you look at them… It’s enough if I can hang out with you.’

‘Is that so? I guess you’re right, as long as I’m here.’

The image of Joyoon’s youthful face, smiling brightly without a trace of embarrassment despite Taejung’s curt replies, kept flashing in his mind. He couldn’t tell if the emotions he remembered were from the present or the distant past. Everything was jumbled and chaotic. Unable to bear the weight of these difficult memories, Taejung began rapidly emptying the bottle in front of him.

“Hey— Taejung— Kang Taejung! Pace yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? Dude, the reunion just started, why are you losing control of yourself?”

“I just feel… suffocated.”

Despite Lim Dohyun’s concerned calls, Taejung remained rooted to his spot, draining the rest of the alcohol. He finally stopped his reckless drinking only after Lim Dohyun, worried about his state, snatched the bottle away. However, the alcohol he had consumed in such a short time was enough to wreak havoc on his reason and emotions.

Thump.

As an awkward silence settled over the table, a half-full beer glass was placed between Lim Dohyun and Kang Taejung.

“Taejung, long time no see.”

At the familiar voice, Kang Taejung lifted his heavy head and looked at the person. The classmate, with short, sporty hair and strong features, wasn’t someone he was particularly close to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Forcing a smile that felt like a mask, Taejung gave a perfunctory nod. The classmate exchanged greetings with Lim Dohyun and engaged in small talk. Family, friends, work, hobbies, relationships. Their life stories, fueled by the red lighting and alcohol, heated up as time went on. But the longer the conversation continued, the more difficult it became for Taejung to bear the encroaching emptiness.

Why did I come here? What was I hoping for, who was I hoping to see? The emptiness in his heart filled the void. As he continued the meaningless small talk…

“So, why didn’t you bring your little shadow?”

“Shadow?”

His gently curved eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar expression. But the classmate, oblivious to his reaction, continued nonchalantly.

“Ha Joyoon, I mean. Weren’t you two inseparable? You always brought him to reunions.”

“……”

The man, after taking a swig of his drink, chuckled mischievously. The wider his smile, the colder Kang Taejung’s expression became. Unaware of this, the classmate roughly wiped his alcohol-soaked lips and added in his characteristically rough tone,

“That kid, he used to follow you around like a puppy in school, is he still like that? It’s been a while, so I kind of miss seeing him. I honestly thought he was autistic at first. He’d just stare blankly when you talked to him, and then say something completely unrelated after a long pause. I’m just saying this now, but he’s not… you know… mentally challenged or something, is he?”

“…What?”

Crash—!

Before he could finish his sentence, the chair toppled over, and the man was pulled upwards. In an instant, everyone in the restaurant turned to look. Dishes and snacks scattered across the floor, and the table was pushed askew. Kang Taejung’s eyes blazed with fury as he grabbed the classmate by the collar.

“What did you say?”

“Gah…”

“What did you say!”

“Tae, Taejung, you bastard, I didn’t mean it like that…”

The man choked, clutching at Taejung as his clothes tightened around his neck, but he was no match for Taejung’s strength, fueled by alcohol. It was a childish and immature remark stemming from the assumption that the classmate was less masculine than him. But the man, who had considered his words as just harmless banter between guys, was now defenseless against Taejung’s unexpected and violent reaction.

“What do you know about Ha Joyoon to talk about him like that!!”

“Taejung, hey, Jooseong didn’t mean it like that, it was just a joke…”

Lim Dohyun rushed over and grabbed Taejung’s arm, trying to stop the fight. Taejung’s gaze, directed at him, was also filled with rage.

“A joke? How can you joke about something like that? That kid? Who are you to say such things?”

“Dude! Hey, Taejung!”

“Autistic? Autistic? This bastard…!!”

“Ugh… Let go…”

Realizing the seriousness of the situation as Taejung’s rage and excitement reignited, other classmates from different tables rushed over and started to pull the two men apart. Even as his arms were restrained and he was forced back by the hands of several people, he continued to yell. What do you know? What do you know about Ha Joyoon? What do you know about what kind of person he really is, judging him based on appearances alone?

But even as he expressed his irrational and unrefined anger, Kang Taejung knew better than anyone.

He knew.

His anger was unreasonable and cowardly.

He was the one who didn’t know. He was the one who didn’t understand Joyoon. He was the one who had isolated Joyoon’s world and forced him to live only in his own.

‘I’m really worried. His speech seems delayed. He seems to have a lot of thoughts… but he barely expresses his emotions, and he can’t seem to get along with his peers. I’ve considered taking him to the hospital. I’m worried he’ll be bullied.’

‘Hospital? There are all sorts of personalities in the world. Yoon is just one of them. Don’t worry too much. He can express himself, and he’s a good student. He talks well with Taejung. If he plays with his friends, they’ll become close quickly, boys being boys.’

Even when their mothers voiced their concerns, he had been pleased that Joyoon only had him. He was the one who, with his shallow sympathy and shallow concern, had pushed Joyoon away while constantly fearing that he might become interested in others. How could Joyoon not have known his contradictions? To Joyoon, who had chosen to see only him, for him… A remorseful cry filled the small, dark space.