Chapter 6: A Strange Kind of Warmth

Following the line of the protruding bone beneath his long, white neck, a straight spine revealed its presence.

Whether it was because he couldn’t eat, didn’t eat, or simply grew up being beaten…

His body, with a frame that hadn’t properly filled out, lacked even a hint of the sturdiness one would expect from the back of an eighteen-year-old boy. Instead, his lines were so thin that something like a surge of heat rose in my chest. It was likely nothing more than a clumsy sense of pity.

His back, where the thinness was palpable, was surely meant to be as pale as his face.

However, the various bruises spreading across it were far too vivid.

The largest among them stretched from his right shoulder blade down to his left flank. That dark purple-red bruise looked as if it had been caused by a long, hard object—like a baseball bat.

As if he had been hit like that more than once, there were yellowish-green bruises nearby in similar or opposite positions, where the skin had turned sallow.

The moment I reflexively took the ointment Song Yun Jae held out, he turned around. I stood still for a long time, and he waited for a long time.

Cradling his discarded cardigan and hunching his shoulders while entrusting his back to me, he remained strangely calm throughout, given the situation.

I scanned the areas I’d already seen, looking away only to look back again several times.

Then suddenly, I felt that the silence shouldn’t stretch any longer. I couldn’t even guess what his face looked like on the other side. I hurriedly twisted the cap off the ointment.

About half of the tube was already gone, as if he’d been using it frequently. Throughout the process of spreading the ointment over his back, the heat I felt through my fingertips was bothersome. I could feel the swelling wherever my fingers touched. The tissue beneath the skin, the muscles—everything felt bumpy and mangled. It was ridiculous how he didn’t let out a single breath of pain, even though it clearly had to sting.

When I applied it to his side, I deliberately pressed down hard on the flesh, but he didn’t make a sound. That composure was so familiar and stable that the air in the space we shared felt alien by comparison.

When my hand pulled away and didn’t return for quite a while, Song Yun Jae naturally put on his shirt and threw on his cardigan without asking a single question.

Only as his body was hidden layer by layer did I finally feel a bit more at ease.

It felt like I finally had a place to rest my eyes.

“Hey. Are you seriously not going?”

He’d already drawn enough attention the other day; now he was starting this sh*t again.

“Ah, come on.”

“I told you, just pick something!”

As soon as 5th period ended, Song Yun Jae came to my desk. That alone was enough to make the other kids hold their breath and stare. Having seen us exchange words as if we were about to scrap last time, it was only natural they were focused on what would happen now.

Whether he knew this or not—or if he’d just thrown the memory of that uncomfortable encounter to the dogs—I was the one stunned by his casual tone. After all, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Let’s go to the snack bar.”

“Then do you want Jeonju Bibimbap?”

“…That’s probably just what you want to eat.”

“Oh, you’re sharp.” Muttering things like that, Song Yun Jae fumbled through his pockets. Once he found what he was looking for, he hid the object inside the sleeve of his cardigan.

“Then just eat whatever I give you.”

“I said I’m not eating. Stop being annoying.”

“I offer to buy, and he says he won’t eat. How spoiled.”

“Do you even have money?”

It was a throwaway comment. He went quiet for a moment.

I looked up at him while leaning on my right arm, which I used as a pillow.

His face was like a still lake. Not a single ripple was visible. Not his lips, which he usually bit when angry, nor his straight eyebrows showed any movement. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

While I was studying his face, Song Yun Jae headed straight for the back door. The kids watching him began to whisper. I watched his retreating figure until he disappeared, then turned my head and closed my eyes.

After a few minutes of quiet sleep, the sound of rustling drew near and then stopped. Simultaneously, I heard the sound of things being poured out by my ear.

The moment I opened my eyes, I saw Song Yun Jae holding a black plastic bag upside down. He had dumped the contents onto my desk.

The classroom fell silent once more.

I sat up, feeling like I should mock him for enjoying this kind of attention. But he beat me to the punch.

“Thanks for the help.”

I saw the corners of his mouth curl up faintly. Before I had a chance to chew over the meaning of his words, the bell for 6th period rang perfectly on cue. His pale face, which hadn’t broken a single drop of sweat despite clearly having run there and back, moved away. He went to his seat as if nothing had happened and stuck a straw into a bottle of banana milk.

Ha, seriously. What is with this guy…

I roughly brushed back my bangs. Only then did the items spilled on my desk catch my eye.

A cheese stick, a tuna mayo triangular kimbap, strawberry milk, Jeonju bibimbap…

Good grief, f*ck.

“Alright, open your books.”

At the teacher’s voice, appearing as quickly as if they’d been waiting outside, everyone moved busily to pull out their textbooks.

“Hyun Uk, the finals are in two weeks. Are you giving up on studying to start a convenience store?”

It seemed he’d unluckily caught me being the only one sitting still amidst the moving students.

I fumbled through my drawer a beat late to pull out a book, and only then did the teacher turn toward the blackboard.

He picked out things exactly like himself.

A bunch of unrelated, mismatched items remained cluttered on my desk.

Glancing over, I saw him waiting for class to start with the straw in his mouth. I watched him for a long while, and suddenly my gaze stopped at his feet.

A white sock peeking out of his three-striped slippers was twitching slightly.

It felt strange.

It felt like the first time I was truly seeing him.

“You—”

The woman spoke as I was passing through the living room.

I’d wondered if today might actually pass quietly.

I had been puzzled because I expected sharp words pushing for a greeting to hit my ears the moment I stepped inside, yet they hadn’t.

Turning around, I saw that for once, she had met my eyes first. She was a woman who always maintained her elegance at home, wearing subtle makeup. There was always a faint, knowing smile lingering in her shimmering eyes.

It had been an unusually tiring day thanks to Song Yun Jae’s sudden whims. I had no strength for a war of words with her, nor any desire for a long power struggle.

As I leaned against the wall to signal I’d listen to what she had to say, she continued.

“Do you have any friends you’re hanging out with?”

What now.

I let out a sigh, rubbing the back of my stiff neck, and heard the sound of her closing the book she had kept on her lap.

“I’ve been thinking, and either way, I don’t think it’s good for rumors to start.”

“What are you even…?”

“Whether you get hit with milk or throw it. I’m saying both are not good.”

Coming home a week ago with my uniform soaked from the milk Song Yun Jae threw must have left quite an impression on her. She actually thought about it for a whole week, huh? Impressive.

A crooked laugh escaped me.

I never expected concern in the first place. Her indifferent attitude that day was something I was actually grateful for. But hearing her speak with a nuance that suggested she had worried deeply for someone else’s sake twisted my mood, which had been barely holding up after Song Yun Jae’s antics.

“Not good for what?”

“…….”

“Me? My father? Or your Chairman? Ah, maybe it’s for him.”

The woman smiled thinly.

“I thought our Hyun Uk had grown up a lot, but he’s still a child.”

The possessive “our” made me want to gag. Most of the violence she inflicted on me was like this. Trapping me and herself in the same group, shackling me with the pretense of affection. She knew all too well that this was what I found most unbearable.

I clenched my teeth. Despite my fierce gaze, she continued unbothered.

“How could those things be separate? The Chairman, me, your father, and even you. Surely you don’t think we aren’t connected at all?”

“…….”

“Don’t become a perpetrator or a victim. It’s a hassle to stuff people’s mouths with money, erase pasts, and clean up the mess later. Do as your father said. Graduate quietly, and don’t stand out.”

The woman’s affectionate gaze demanded an answer.

I had zero intention of responding. In the end, she was just using roundabout words to say that saving face was all that mattered, treating me like a chess piece. I pushed off the wall and grabbed the strap of my bag that was sliding off my shoulder. I went straight up the stairs and locked my door as soon as I entered my room.

Unable to either release or swallow the surging irritation, I just balled my hands into fists. My nails, which had grown slightly long, dug into my palms, causing a stinging pain.

A sudden thirst rushed over me. I unzipped my bag to pull out the cigarettes I’d stashed there.

But the first thing my hand caught wasn’t a cigarette; it was smooth plastic.

Wondering what it was, I looked inside. The snacks Song Yun Jae had dumped there earlier were sitting right on top of the cigarettes.

A cheese stick, a tuna mayo triangular kimbap, strawberry milk, Jeonju bibimbap…

They were items exactly like Song Yun Jae.