Chapter 8: The Weight of a Shadow

I felt like I had been caught in the middle of doing something bad.

My calm heartbeat spiked. It felt as if the fever that had broken was rising all over again. At this point, it was awkward to abruptly pull the blanket away, but equally awkward to ask exactly when he had woken up.

I squeezed out a voice, pretending to be as composed as possible.

“What are you doing like this?”

“I was just waiting for you, and I got sleepy.”

“I’m asking why you’re waiting for me.”

Slowly opening his eyes, he naturally stretched. As he moved, the scent of fabric softener I had grown familiar with over the past few days wafted up toward me.

“To go to the snack bar when you wake up. It’s lunch time now.”

Unbelievable, seriously. I suffered all night because of that snack bar.

I let out a snort. Regardless of my dismissive sound, he twisted his body this way and that to work out the stiffness, then suddenly began pulling his arms out of his cardigan.

Once again, I was the one flustered.

“Now that you’re up, apply the ointment.”

“Hey, give me a heads-up first.”

What is this now? My head started to throb.

Having stripped off the cardigan in an instant, he pulled the ointment from his pants pocket and held it out.

On his white arm, there was another bruise I hadn’t seen yesterday. It could only mean he had been hit again within a single day.

“Are you just clumsy?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t you dodge?”

Unless they tie you up and beat you, can’t you try to dodge a few swings or at least run away? Those words surged up my throat. Whether he managed to decipher my vaguely thrown question or not, he dropped his gaze. I didn’t bother adding a further explanation.

The air naturally grew heavy.

“…If I dodge, Mom gets hit.”

After a moment of silence, his words—bursting out more calmly than expected—were bleak. As if he didn’t realize the weight or the ripple effect of what he’d just said, he stared at me with an indifferent expression.

His eyes were clear. That made it even sh*ttier.

“…F*ck. Where? Just the arm?”

I couldn’t help but swear. The irritation and foul moods I kept feeling because of him were not exactly welcome.

As I snatched the ointment away gruffly, he silently unbuttoned his uniform shirt. His skin was revealed in the intervals between the unfastening buttons. A glimpse of his solar plexus showed it was white, unlike his back.

I lowered my gaze. I felt like I had to.

“Turn around.”

It was for the same reason that I told him to turn around before he even finished unbuttoning. Without much reaction, he turned, shed the shirt, and hunched his back again to make it easier to apply the ointment.

Perhaps the new bruise was only on his arm; his back looked exactly as it had yesterday.

While I spread the ointment over the same spots as the day before, the infirmary was silent, without even the sound of a breath.

The bruises, which had less swelling than yesterday, also had much less heat.

That was a relief.

Even as I thought it was a relief, I felt ridiculous for feeling reassured.

How were these “reliefs” increasing one by one? Sh*tty things were increasing day by day too.

I had thought he’d be interesting to watch as he sat by the window like a preserved specimen, but the closer I got, the more exhausting of a species he turned out to be.

“Thanks. I’ll treat you at the snack bar.”

“…….”

June, which still had half a month left, was far too tiring.

“Hyun Uk, aren’t you eating?”

A cautious voice drifted in along with a knock.

In this house, the only person who didn’t open my door at will and instead asked for my consent was the lady who helped with the housework. She was the only person who had been walking on eggshells around me, caught between my father and that woman since my mother died, fearing she might upset me.

Because of that, I couldn’t help but be softer toward her. However, ever since I realized that the soft kindness in her eyes stemmed from pity, I stopped opening the door even for her calm knocks.

I knew that if I didn’t open the door, she would accept it pityingly and move on, but it was more important to me that I didn’t have to face that mushy gaze right now.

“I’m not hungry. I’m going to sleep.”

“Let me know if you get a bit peckish. I’ll leave some fruit in front of the door.”

I waited a moment for the footsteps to fade before practically diving onto the bed. It was true that I was tired enough to lose my appetite. When we moved due to the “incident,” I hadn’t just switched academies—I’d quit them all, but that meant I had to fulfill my study quota voluntarily. The commute to the academy district had decreased, but the energy required to use my brain remained the same.

A hot breeze blew through the open window. The temperature was especially high today. The season that made it easy to get physically exhausted was approaching.

As I absentmindedly stroked my bare skin exposed beneath my short sleeves, a blank face suddenly came to mind.

Is he doing that at home too? It must be hot.

For several days now, once a day, he had been dragging me to the bathroom. Wondering how long this sh*t would last, I would follow him as if defeated, and every time, he would go into the same stall and show me his bare back.

Even though it was annoying and irritating, my breath would hitch whenever I faced wounds that looked as shocking as if I were seeing them for the first time.

On some days, a newly formed bruise would catch my eye first; on others, a bruise turning yellow would be the first thing I saw. In the latter case, I felt somewhat at ease. Though my stomach would twist if he came the next day with a bright red bruise over it.

By the time his thin back and delicate lines became familiar, I could see the ointment he held out was gradually dwindling.

However, neither he nor I bothered to talk about the ointment.

There wasn’t much to talk about in the first place, and even if we did, it was mostly Song Yun Jae chatting by himself.

‘It’s faded a lot now.’

‘Do you have eyes in the back of your head?’

‘Not the bruises—the scent.’

Perhaps because the dampness wouldn’t disappear through the bathroom vent, leaving the small window open had quite the effect of an air freshener. The breeze passing through that path was spreading the lingering scent of the late-blooming acacias. He seemed to quite like it.

‘I like acacias.’

‘Who asked?’

‘Do you hate them?’

‘They’re just, well… sweet.’

I had answered quite seriously back then, but Song Yun Jae laughed.

It was the first time I’d seen him laugh. Since his back was turned, I couldn’t see his face, but a huffing sound followed a couple of times. I couldn’t picture what a laugh would look like on that blank face. It was ridiculous that I was trying to estimate what he’d look like if he just turned his head.

I pointlessly added strength to my fingertips as I applied the ointment.

‘Ah, it hurts.’

‘…….’

‘Let’s go to the snack bar when you’re done.’

‘Is “let’s go to the snack bar” the only thing you know how to say? If you like the snack bar so much, why are you so skin-and-bones? You should be f*cking chubby.’

He went quiet for a moment at my blunt words. Unfazed, I was applying the ointment to the last bruise and closing the cap when he whipped around. I thought he’d turn after getting fully dressed as usual, but he defied my expectations.

As did the unfamiliar smile on his face as he looked at me just like that.

‘Coward.’

‘What?’

‘You talk like a son of a b*tch, but why did you loosen the pressure on your hand when I said it hurt?’

Before I could even get annoyed, he chuckled.

‘Tone down your personality. Fix it. How do you expect to live with such a foul temper?’

His face, laced with a faint playfulness, curved into a smile.

That was the day I first encountered his smiling face, which I hadn’t been able to imagine.

“…Ha.”

First encounters met unexpectedly usually leave a deep mark on the memory.

“…What a sh*t-show.”

I had overlooked that.

Vacation was a month away.

Summer vacation, which starts near the end of July, could hardly be called a vacation. From the second year on, we had to come to school for three weeks of self-study even during summer break. The only differences from the regular semester were that we didn’t have to wear uniforms and that since lunch wasn’t provided, self-study only lasted until 1:00 PM.

“Song Yun, are you coming for self-study?”

“Yeah.”

“Whoa, d*mn. You’re hardcore, man.”

Naturally, the students were full of complaints.

Only today, with less than ten days of June left including the weekend, did the homeroom teacher announce the summer vacation self-study schedule. After the teacher left, leaving behind the groaning students, the atmosphere of the class during Period Zero self-study remained like this.

One guy, who occasionally came to Song Yun Jae’s seat to shoot the breeze, had been busy sitting at his desk since a while ago, blathering on about how self-study was this and that.

In contrast, Song Yun Jae looked more peaceful than expected. He seemed indifferent to the fact that he had to come to school for self-study during vacation, and he seemed unbothered by his friend being annoying.

Seeing as he didn’t get angry even when his workbook was snatched away, I wondered if they were quite close. It’s funny that I kept my ears open until I reached that thought, but since it wasn’t a common sight, my ears kept gravitating toward them.

“How is it hardcore? It’s natural. Aren’t you going to college?”

“Does self-study get you into college?”

“You, having studied during self-study, will be the one opening the college doors.”

“…This kid, your backtalk has gotten worse than last year. Don’t hang out with Cha Hyun Uk. You’re piling up more karma here—”

Just as I was keeping my ears open while pretending not to, my name came up. Reflexively turning my head to look, the guy who had been blathering quickly shifted his gaze. It was bothersome for some reason. I scowled, wondering if it was because of that guy talking about me while I was right there, or because of the kids chatting away, swept up in the buzzing atmosphere.

While glaring at the guy who was pointlessly scratching the corner of Song Yun Jae’s desk to avoid my gaze, I locked eyes with Song Yun Jae. I was floored by how he met my gaze naturally, as if he’d been waiting for it.

“…….”

“…….”

In that moment, the corners of his mouth tilted up slightly.