Chapter 9

Contrary to Yi-seon’s expectation of an explosion, Yeon Hangyeol immediately shut his mouth. His whole demeanor changed as he hurried to say there was hardly any time before Yi-jeong’s bus, they should not waste it fighting, and yes, fine, he was the one in the wrong.

Yi-seon rubbed at one ear with a grimace. Anyone else’s lovers’ quarrel might have been entertaining, but this was his own brother’s romantic drama. Watching it made his skin crawl.

“Hyung, I’m done with my tests, so I’ll get going.”

I need to get the hell out of here.

“Why? Wait a bit and we can grab a bite together.”

Yi-seon had no intention of accepting. Yeon Hangyeol was glaring at him like a demon, and staying for lunch suddenly seemed hazardous to his health. He declined politely and beat a hasty retreat.

Ryu Yi-jeong called out from behind, “Get home safe!”

Yi-seon tossed an OK sign over his shoulder and jabbed the elevator’s close button.

Ryu Yi-jeong and Yeon Hangyeol. It was not impossible that the two had ended up together. Their families had known each other for years, so they must have crossed paths often enough for something to develop.

The problem was that Mugyeol’s older brother, Yeon Hangyeol, had an awful personality. While meddling in someone else’s romance was uncalled for, Yi-seon couldn’t help feeling concerned.

Under their parents’ relentless academic pressure, Ryu Yi-jeong had spent his childhood shuttling between cram schools and had visited Chairman Yeon Taeguk’s estate far less often than Yi-seon. It was entirely possible he was dating Hangyeol without knowing just how rude and rotten the man could be.

“Does he treat hyung well? I’ve never seen Yeon Hangyeol hyung that docile before…”

Judging by what Yi-seon had just seen, his brother did not seem to be the one getting pushed around, which was a relief. He forced his thoughts to settle and finally answered the phone that had been vibrating nonstop.

—“Ryu Yi-seon, you son of a b—”

“Hey, do you know about that?”

Cutting off Mugyeol’s heated tirade, Yi-seon spoke quickly, “Your hyung and my hyung—…”

But he stopped midsentence. He and Mugyeol might be uniquely qualified to gossip about this bizarre development, but it was still his brother’s private life. In his agitation, Yi-seon had nearly blurted it out without permission.

Yi-seon reined himself in and decided to pretend he knew nothing.

“No, never mind.”

—“You asking if I know they’re dating?”

Surprisingly, Mugyeol already knew the truth.

“How did you know?”

—“Because they make it so fucking obvious.”

“Do our parents know?”

—“Probably not. Who gives a shit whether they know or not? Whether they date or drop dead.”

Mugyeol sounded utterly indifferent. Yi-seon, apparently, was the only one losing his mind over the revelation.

Mugyeol let out a long breath, his next words tightly controlled.

—“Did you pick up just to ask that? After ignoring me fifteen times?”

“You called fifteen times?”

—“Is that what’s important? The more I look at you, the more you seem like a total fucking psycho.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to talk.”

—“How did you even know my number? Did you ask Su-ah noona?”

“No. I never deleted it in the first place.”

—“…Really?”

“Why would I lie?”

For a moment, Mugyeol said nothing. Yi-seon could only hear him breathing over the line.

Yi-seon went quiet too, fidgeting with his fingers. He had asked everything he wanted to ask and was braced for the inevitable barrage of curses, but Mugyeol’s sudden calm made him more nervous than shouting would have.

But Mugyeol did not explode as expected.

Click.

He simply hung up the call.

Yi-seon rubbed his thumb over the warmth lingering in his phone and headed for the subway.

After snagging an empty seat, he stared blankly at Yeon Mugyeol’s contact information. Every time Yi-seon changed phones, the number had been transferred automatically with everything else, but they had not contacted each other once since sixth grade—until today.

Because the number was still saved, Mugyeol remained registered as a friend in Yi-seon’s messaging app. Yi-seon could still vividly remember the last message he had sent him.

— Yeon Mugyeol what are you doing? Wanna play Blic? haha    [6:02 PM]

Yeon Mugyeol what are you doing? Wanna play Blic? haha

Yi-seon had sent it from Jeju after agonizing over whether to ask Mugyeol to play a game with him. Mugyeol read the message and never replied.

Mugyeol had been supposed to visit Jeju that summer, but he never came and never explained why. Then he ignored the message Yi-seon had finally worked up the courage to send.

Passing through the subway turnstiles, Yi-seon recalled the distant past.

“Mugyeol-ah. Go play with other friends too. If you only play with me, you won’t be able to make new friends.”

“I only need you.”

Mugyeol had said that in elementary school. Now, in high school, he was surrounded by people. That was a good thing, of course. It meant he was no longer lonely.

Yi-seon had also forced himself to accept that Mugyeol’s old affection for him had evaporated, leaving room only for Ham Su-ah. After so many years apart, it was natural for a friendship to fade.

Yet ever since their reunion, Yi-seon’s eyes kept following Mugyeol and his heart kept reacting before he could stop it. The feeling had arrived like an accident he had never seen coming.

He did not hate Mugyeol—not when Mugyeol bared his claws and snarled, not even when he acted like a rabid dog and got on Yi-seon’s last nerve. Somehow, Yi-seon liked him anyway.

Mugyeol drew attention without trying. It was not only his sharply handsome face; when he smiled, the whole space around him seemed to brighten with fresh energy.

Mugyeol had a way of looking directly at people that made every meeting of their eyes feel singular. Then reality would snap back into place: Mugyeol had no special interest in Yi-seon at all.

“Why do I even like him…”

Why?

After screaming at each other like that just now.

I don’t really know.

Maybe everything is the reason.

As a child, Yi-seon had loved being the one Mugyeol looked for first. Even if it had been the blind devotion of a lonely child, receiving that affection had made him happy.

But…

Truthfully, wasn’t I just as lonely as little Mugyeol back then?

They had simply been two lonely children clinging to each other, like tiny sparrows puffing up their feathers against winter cold on the same thin telephone wire.

❖ ❖ ❖

For the first time in a long while, Yi-seon dreamed of his childhood. The dream hovered somewhere between sleep and memory, vivid enough to feel real.

As a child, Yi-seon had often visited Mugyeol’s house at Chairman Yeon’s request, meant to keep the lonely boy company. Mugyeol, however, barely spared him a glance and persistently trailed after his twin half brothers instead.

To a young Mugyeol, starved for affection, his twin half brothers were merciless. They would let him play with them as though tossing him a scrap, then abandon him without warning and run off together. Tiny Mugyeol would race across the garden after them, desperate not to be left behind.

“You said you’d play with me!”

He reached out with both hands, straining to catch his older brothers. All he wanted was to get inside the protective fence of ‘family.’ To them, however, Mugyeol was the ugly duckling who could never quite belong.

When Mugyeol tripped and fell, the twins finally looked back—and laughed.

Seonggyeol called back, “Don’t follow us, dummy!”

“Don’t be so mean, Seonggyeol-ah. He’s crying.”

“Crying again? What if he tattles to Grandpa? Oh, right. We just have to cry too and say he hit us. He did it before, so Grandpa will believe us.”

Yi-seon had watched scenes like that throughout childhood. At first he told his parents, but their only response was embarrassed discomfort. They knew the Yeon family’s circumstances too well, and believed it was not their place to interfere.

Instead, Yi-seon’s parents told him to be the one who played nicely with Mugyeol.

So Yi-seon did just that.

Yi-seon helped Mugyeol to his feet, stopped him from charging after his brothers, and gave him a stern lecture.

“Where did the hyungs go? I’m gonna catch them and hit them all! Until they play with me…!”

“Yeon Mugyeol. Are you stupid?”

“Why am I stupid!”

“If you want to hit them, you have to do it secretly! Why hit them out in the open in front of everyone? That’s why you’re always the only one who looks bad.”

“…”

“You got scolded last time for hitting them, didn’t you? Even though they were the ones who teased and bullied you first.”

Sniffling, his small shoulders heaving, Mugyeol kept searching the garden for the brothers who had abandoned him. Yi-seon cupped his cheeks and turned his face forward.

“Why do you like those hyungs? They’re always teasing you and calling you stupid. You’re not stupid.”

Only then did Mugyeol’s wandering gaze lock onto Yi-seon.

Yi-seon understood the pattern between Mugyeol and his twin half brothers all too well. In front of their grandfather, the twins pretended to look after him; the moment the old man was gone, they tormented him. Their methods were petty and childish, but Mugyeol was a child too, and the hurt was real.

The same thing had happened only days earlier. While building a train set with Mugyeol, the twins waited until their grandfather left and then destroyed his railway overpass. Mugyeol retaliated by smashing every Lego structure they had built, grabbing a toy baseball bat, and chasing them down. Their stepmother walked in at exactly the wrong moment—just as he hit Hangyeol and kicked Seonggyeol in the back.

Yi-seon could only stand by as Mugyeol endured his stepmother’s scolding, huge silent tears slipping down his cheeks.

Even after such incidents, Mugyeol continued to trail right behind his older brothers. They were the only family he had.

Five-year-old Mugyeol was clumsy and naive.

Whenever the twins teased him, Mugyeol flared up; whenever they mocked him, he lashed out. But the moment they laughed and walked away, he would chase after them, desperately apologizing.

He was headstrong and starved for affection, able to express himself only through tears and clumsy stubbornness. He did not know how to ask for love or what to do with grief. No one had ever taught him.

Because he was the one caught hitting his brothers, Mugyeol always ended up cast as the villain. His stepmother would accuse him of looking down on the older boys because their grandfather favored him, then take only the twins back inside.

Even when Mugyeol cried and begged to be forgiven, nothing changed. Yi-seon had always watched from the outside, helpless to interfere. This time, though, he had gathered the courage to hold Mugyeol back.

Bursting into fresh tears, Mugyeol sobbed, his shoulders shaking.

“The hyungs are my family. I live with them too…!”

“Does being family mean they can bully you?”

“You don’t understand! Yi-jeong hyung plays with you all the time!”

“Yeah. My hyung doesn’t bully me. But if he bullied me like your hyungs do, I would hate him. I wouldn’t follow him around, and I wouldn’t play with him. I’d hate him.”

“…”

“Stop crying. When you cry, those hyungs like it even more. They call you a dummy.”

Mugyeol’s black eyes shone with tears. Yi-seon wiped his cheeks and asked softly, “Are you bored? Because you’re always alone?”

“…The hyungs sleep together. They play together. But I always sleep alone, eat snacks alone, and play alone. Only I have to stay in a different room.”

“Then play with me.”

“…”

“Play with me instead of those hyungs. Let’s be close friends and not fight. That’ll fix it.”

“…With you?”

“Yeah. But you can’t scream or hit me just because you’re angry. I hate getting hurt.”

Mugyeol stayed silent for a long time, blinking damp lashes as he stared at Yi-seon. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink from crying, and fresh tears slipped down his face whenever he blinked.

To Yi-seon’s eyes, little Mugyeol looked momentarily like an angel.

At last, still looking at Yi-seon, Mugyeol gave him a tiny smile.

“Okay.”

Holding Yi-seon in those dark eyes, he asked softly, “By the way… what’s your name?”

…Was that when it began? His confusion with my name.

Yi-seon woke and rubbed his eyes, forcing his tired body upright. Maybe because it had been so long since he dreamed of young Mugyeol, the memory left a strange ache behind.

People who had once been close could become strangers; relationships thriving today could fall apart tomorrow. Was that what people meant by a ‘seasonal connection’?

Thinking of Mugyeol as someone whose season had already passed brought a bitter smile to Yi-seon’s lips.

❖ ❖ ❖