Chapter 23

When the new semester began, one thing changed immediately: the way other students looked at Yi-seon and Mugyeol.

After lunch, Mugyeol began strolling into Yi-seon’s classroom as though he belonged there, taking the seat beside Yi-seon instead of going to Jeongjin’s desk. He ignored the chorus of classmates asking why he was there and telling him to stop bothering Yi-seon.

“Eat.”

“Thanks.”

Yi-seon munched on the chestnut cookies Mugyeol brought while memorizing English vocabulary.

The classroom was noisy, half the students studying and the other half chatting. Yi-seon memorized vocabulary as though deaf to all of it.

Light caught on the tips of his lowered eyelashes as he looked down at his book, his plump lips parting and closing intermittently as he recited words. Whenever a breeze drifted past, his uniform shirt—with one top button left undone—fluttered against the pale nape of his neck. Perhaps due to the heat, tiny beads of sweat glistened slightly over his fair skin.

Mugyeol, who had been sitting with his chin propped on one hand, suddenly sprang up and snatched Jeongjin’s water bottle.

“Hand it over.”

“What the hell! Don’t eat all the ice!”

Mugyeol drained the bottle in several deep gulps and sat back down beside Yi-seon. He had stolen Jeongjin’s handheld fan too and aimed its breeze at the back of Yi-seon’s neck.

Having finished memorizing a full page of vocabulary, Yi-seon pulled out another cookie Mugyeol had brought and popped it into his mouth. Watching Yi-seon’s fair, slender fingers lightly brush past his own lips, Mugyeol asked casually, “Why do you even like snacks like this? Are you a grandpa? Your tastes are bizarre.”

Indignation flared through Yi-seon. His tastes could not be that bizarre; after all, Mugyeol himself was one of them. As always, he kept the thought to himself.

“You’re the one with grandpa tastes, loving Matdongsan[1] so much.”

“What’s wrong with Matdongsan? The peanuts are fucking savory, for your information.”

Yi-seon pulled a bag of Matdongsan from his desk drawer and tossed it at Mugyeol. He told him to eat that and shut up while he studied, but Mugyeol made a point of crunching loudly and continued butting in.

“You don’t know that one? Really? No way. Seriously?”

“…”

“You should’ve mastered all the CSAT words by now.”

“…”

“Inflexibility. Rigidity. Inflexibility.”

“Ah, it slipped my mind for a second, okay?!”

Irritated, Yi-seon snatched back the bag of Matdongsan and pounded it flat with his fists.

Thud, thud!

Mugyeol stared down at the powdered remains and muttered in dismay, “So violent… Terrifying…”

Unable to watch any longer from behind, Kwon Jeongjin dragged Mugyeol back toward his own desk.

“Hey. Why do you keep bothering Yi-seon while he’s studying? He’s the top student in our class!”

“I’m first place too.”

“Then the top student of Class One should get lost back to Class One.”

Once Jeongjin dragged Mugyeol away, the pestering finally stopped. Yi-seon’s desk mate returned a moment later, sighed heavily, and slumped face-down over the desk.

“Yi-seon-ah.”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you said you weren’t close with Yeon Mugyeol…”

His desk mate looked up at Yi-seon, eyes full of grievance.

“Right now you two look super close,” his desk mate told him.

The complaint reminded Yi-seon of an earlier conversation. His Omega desk mate had admitted that Mugyeol intimidated him and asked Yi-seon to meet Mugyeol somewhere else if they were close.

What had he answered back then?

“He won’t come anyway. We’re not really close anymore.”

There was no pretending that anymore. Since the semester began, Mugyeol had visited far too often, and the two of them had spent far too much time whispering and laughing together…

Embarrassed, Yi-seon admitted, “We did get close again. But I’ll tell him not to come anymore.”

“You don’t have to go that far…”

His desk mate looked guilty, but Yi-seon reassured him with a nod. It was simple enough: Mugyeol could stop coming here, and Yi-seon could go to him instead.

The next day after lunch, Yi-seon brushed his teeth and headed for Mugyeol’s classroom. Mugyeol’s class was in the old building while Yi-seon’s was in the newer annex, connected by a corridor on the same floor. They ran into each other halfway across.

Tucking a bag of chestnut cookies under his arm, Mugyeol asked in surprise, “Where are you going? Meeting someone?”

Yi-seon took Mugyeol by the shoulder and steered him toward the window.

“Don’t come to my classroom anymore.”

“What?”

“Stop coming to see me.”

“…”

Yi-seon did not want to tell Mugyeol outright that his desk mate was uncomfortable, so he added lightly, “Why bother coming every single day anyway?” Shouting rose from the athletic field below, distracting Yi-seon for a moment. When he looked back, Mugyeol was staring at him with a strange, cold stillness.

Mugyeol blinked once, slowly, and murmured without expression, “…Again.”

“Again?”

The blankness in Mugyeol’s face was unnerving. Yi-seon briskly patted his back and leaned against his shoulder in a familiar gesture. “What are you sulking about again? I’ll come over instead. Let’s go right now.”

“…Ah.”

Only then did Mugyeol soften. The blank stare vanished as the corners of his mouth lifted. He caught Yi-seon’s arm and tugged it more securely around his waist, then slung his own arm over Yi-seon’s shoulders and headed for the classroom with him.

Yi-seon thought the pose looked friendly until he caught their reflection on the way to Class One. Instead, he looked like a skinny, pale kid being hauled off by a delinquent to get shaken down for two thousand won.

If Mugyeol had been even slightly worse at studying, he would have looked destined for a life of thuggery. How had this guy ended up first in the entire school and student council president?

“Curious about my seat, Ryu Yi-seon?”

“Yeah.”

“You should’ve said something sooner.”

“I’m saying it now.”

“Fair point.”

Mugyeol was simpler than he looked. He got angry quickly and calmed down just as fast. Yi-seon privately marveled at the volatility and gave his side a light pat. Being close to a familiar friend like this put him oddly at ease.

Students hanging out in the hallway stole glances at their backs as they entered Class One.

“What’s going on? Why are they getting along?”

“Seems like they’ve been close lately.”

“Didn’t they fight every single day? Because both of them liked Su-ah eonni. Why did they suddenly get so friendly?”

“Did they make up? I heard they’ve been friends since childhood.”

“Really?”

Yi-seon and Mugyeol had become a regular topic of hallway gossip. Either one drew attention alone; together, they drew twice as much.

“Those two and Su-ah eonni all have matching black cat plush charms hanging from their bags—isn’t that like a love triangle or something?”

“No idea. I heard Mugyeol bought Su-ah eonni’s, and Yi-seon bought Mugyeol’s. And someone from Class Two saw Mugyeol forcefully hanging the cat plush onto Yi-seon’s bag.”

“…What kind of setup is that?”

“Who knows.”

Everyone had assumed Yi-seon and Mugyeol were bitter rivals who fought whenever they crossed paths. Now they were practically glued together. Of course people were curious.

“Now that you see them together, they really do look like they belong in the same picture.”

The girls peered through the Class One window. Inside, Yi-seon and Mugyeol had their heads close together, smiling and whispering over something.

❖ ❖ ❖

The study cafe was dead quiet. Cold air from the air conditioner brushed the back of Yi-seon’s neck as he stretched and rubbed the chilled skin. Bored, he glanced around. Everyone else was deeply absorbed in their work.

Yi-seon stole a glance at Mugyeol’s serious profile over his workbook and straightened. If the top-ranked student was studying this hard, who was Yi-seon to slack off?

Chastened, Yi-seon turned a page just as something slid over from the neighboring desk. Mugyeol’s notebook. Yi-seon looked over in confusion, and Mugyeol tapped the edge with his mechanical pencil.

Yi-seon bent closer. In the corner of the page was a doodle resembling a sesame seed clutching a starfish.

Yi-seon mouthed silently.

What is this?

Resting his chin on his palm, Mugyeol gave a subtle nod.

You.

“…”

Ah, this childish jerk.

Yi-seon had just been admiring Mugyeol’s concentration and thinking the school’s top student really was on another level. Instead, he had been drawing this sesame-seed creature. The life vest made it obvious that the victim was supposed to be Yi-seon in Guam. And Mugyeol’s drawing skills were atrocious.

Don’t you dare tell anyone you’re in the art club.

Yi-seon retaliated in the corner of Mugyeol’s notebook with a crowned prince surrounded by ridiculous sparkles. It was supposed to mock Mugyeol’s status as the school’s resident idol, but Mugyeol looked annoyingly pleased.

Soon, the notebook slid back over.

Ice cream?

Ice cream?

Yi-seon nodded and stood at once. They headed to the convenience store downstairs and dropped into seats at an outdoor table. Yi-seon slumped over the plastic tabletop and drummed his knuckles.

“Ah, I’m so sick of this. How much longer do we have to keep doing this?”

“About 432 days.”

“…Yeon Mugyeol, do you count that every single day?”

“Yeah. I count every damn morning, praying for my escape.”

Peeling the wrapper off an ice cream, Mugyeol held it out to Yi-seon. “Eat it quickly. It’s melting.”

“Okay.”

Yi-seon pushed himself up and took a bite of the ice cream. Orange-flavored sherbet melted refreshingly in his mouth.

Mid-September sat awkwardly between seasons. Autumn had technically begun, but summer heat still shimmered above the asphalt, and the breeze against their short sleeves remained muggy.

Yi-seon watched Mugyeol, silhouetted against the convenience-store lights. Since it was Saturday, he wore a cotton T-shirt and sweatpants instead of his uniform, with an ice cream in each hand. A buy-two-get-one-free deal had left them with three, and Mugyeol insisted they had to finish them before they melted. He took a huge bite.

Crunch.

His teeth crunching into the sherbet sounded absurdly loud.

The night was hazy.

Mugyeol stood out sharply against the convenience-store glow. Passing headlights caught in his eyes and flashed there for an instant before vanishing.

He really is handsome. Yi-seon was still staring when Mugyeol finished one ice cream, raised the second, and finally looked up.

“What?”

Mugyeol held the ice cream toward Yi-seon with a lazy smile. “Want some?”

Unable to withstand Mugyeol’s teasing gaze, Yi-seon took a bite. He could hardly admit he had been staring at Mugyeol rather than the ice cream. The green-tangerine sherbet melted sharply on his tongue.

“Give me some too.”

Mugyeol caught Yi-seon’s hand and pulled the ice cream closer.

At the edge of Yi-seon’s hand, melted ice cream dripped down (Plop). Mugyeol tilted his chin further, following the trail of moisture. Beneath the slanted angle of his jawline, the long, taut line of his throat was exposed. His slightly parted lips glistened wet from the ice cream.

Mugyeol lifted his head with a mischievous grin after taking a bite of Yi-seon’s ice cream. Yi-seon hastily looked away.

“Wait, isn’t this an indirect kiss?”

“…”

Heat rushed up the back of Yi-seon’s neck. He had been thinking exactly the same thing. His chest fluttered with the awful feeling that Mugyeol had somehow exposed a secret Yi-seon had never said aloud.

“Why is it so hot…”

Blaming the weather for his burning ears, Yi-seon tugged air beneath his T-shirt until he could breathe normally again. His gaze landed on an ocean-themed drink advertisement on the convenience-store window. “The sea was so cool and refreshing.”

A sudden longing caught him. Not only for Guam, but for the hours he had spent there laughing and talking with Mugyeol. The ocean had once terrified him, and now he wanted to see it again. That change belonged almost entirely to Mugyeol.

Mugyeol finished his ice cream and followed Yi-seon’s gaze. “Guam was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It was really wonderful. …I guess I actually liked the sea. I want to go again.”

Mugyeol gathered their trash into a neat pile and asked casually, “Want to go see the ocean?”

“Sure, sounds great. But when? During winter break? Wouldn’t it be too cold then? Not that I mind either way.”

Mugyeol bounced his crossed leg and smiled. “No, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Right away?” Yi-seon’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah. I don’t have tutoring tomorrow. It’s Sunday, so I have plenty of time.”

“Wouldn’t it be too far?”

Yi-seon pressed a hand to his chest. Just the thought of taking another trip with Mugyeol made his pulse jump.

“Looks like you can take the subway to the West Coast. Someone mentioned going there by train. Hold on.”

Mugyeol pulled out his phone and searched the map.

The two immediately began planning. A couple of subway transfers would take them to Oido, and from Oido Station they could catch a bus to the coast. They still had tutoring homework due, so they would study in the morning and leave around lunch. To keep their parents from worrying, they would start home around sunset.

“All right. Let’s go tomorrow then.”

“Deal!”

Smack! They high-fived and headed back to the study cafe. If they wanted tomorrow afternoon free, they would have to focus now.

At lunchtime the next day, they stepped out of the study cafe into pouring sunlight. They left their heavy workbooks and tablets in the lockers and set off with only what they needed. The map app put the trip to the ocean at roughly two hours.

“Ryu Yi-seon, have you ever traveled this far without your parents?”

“No, never. When I was little in Jeju, I took the bus alone to the airport once.”

“…To pick me up?”

“Yeah.”

“That was your first time going far, and today is your second?”

“Yeah.”

Mugyeol made a low sound in his throat. “Hmm…” His expression gave nothing away as he stared out the subway window, then lightly tapped the back of Yi-seon’s head for no apparent reason.

Puzzled, Yi-seon rubbed the back of his head and asked, “…What?”

Mugyeol offered no answer.

After chatting idly through the ride, they arrived at Oido Station. Yi-seon had expected to smell salt the instant they stepped out, but the station looked and smelled perfectly ordinary.

They boarded a bus for the coast. There were few other passengers.

They took the very back row and chatted until the scenery outside began to change. Soon the rattling bus was running along an open coastal road.

“Oh, it’s the sea. Yeon Mugyeol, look at that. Isn’t it pretty? Wow…”

Yi-seon leaned toward Mugyeol’s window for a better look. Afternoon sunlight shattered across the water in countless points of white, so bright that the sea’s actual color almost disappeared beneath the glare.

Whenever the bus jolted, Mugyeol steadied Yi-seon with an arm around his shoulders. “Want to switch seats?”

“No, I’m good. You look at the sea too.”

“All right.”

Mugyeol nodded, but instead of looking at the ocean, he kept one hand on Yi-seon’s shoulder and stared toward the front of the bus. Cool air stirred Yi-seon’s hair against Mugyeol’s cheek.

After getting off the bus, they climbed a hill beneath the blazing sun and eventually reached an open-air observatory overlooking the coast.

“From this sea, you can see buildings in the distance. It wasn’t like that in Guam.”

“True.”

After admiring the view for a while, they headed back down.

As they wandered and talked, they came across a prehistoric theme park filled with sculptures of Stone Age life. Yi-seon clasped his hands behind his back and studied a figure holding a crude tool. “He’s working so hard… in this heat, too…”

“Gotta make a living.”

“We should count ourselves lucky to be born in this era. If you were born back then, you’d be out hunting wild boars right now.”

“Probably. My family came up from nothing, after all. Yours has been yangban for generations, so back then you might’ve been the chief’s son or something. We probably wouldn’t even have been allowed at the same table. Kind of like our grandfathers.”

“…Don’t answer so seriously… Who cares about stuff like that in the twenty-first century? Unreal.”

Yi-seon muttered and strode ahead. Mugyeol chuckled as he followed. “Hey!”

“What?”

Yi-seon turned to find Mugyeol gesturing grandly at a thatched pit dwelling.

“Here’s the house I lived in during my past life! Blows away if the wind picks up!”

“…Ah, give it a rest already.”