Chapter 20: The Unanswered Message and the Heavy Rain

A lifeless snort escaped me. Ah, f*ck. I needed to get some sleep before my mood soured any further.

I plugged in my earphones and picked a song. As the familiar melody began, I slowly leaned down onto my desk. When I turned my head to the left while lying there, my gaze landed exactly on Song Yun Jae’s seat. It was a spot where my eyes rested comfortably without even trying. I wondered when he’d left; he usually stayed until late, but today he had vanished early.

‘You sleep just because I tell you to?’

Suddenly, the image of his strangely sulky expression and the text he sent last weekend came to mind, but I didn’t bother sitting up.

The classroom, now emptied of everyone, was silent. Perhaps it felt even more so because the lights had been turned off when the door was closed. Since I’d left the window open instead of the door, it didn’t feel stuffy. A breeze—lukewarm but pleasant enough—drifted in through the open window better than expected. It wasn’t a bad feeling, hiding away as if being swallowed by the darkness alone.

Vrrr—

It was bound to be a text from that woman. Ignoring the vibration rattling the desk, I closed my eyes again.

Vrrr— Vrrr—

Is she throwing another fit? This is an obsession. She should be satisfied with having the man she wanted kneeling at her side; why the hell is she bothering me too? Suppressing the rising irritation, I turned my head the other way.

The music echoing in my ears faded, followed by a brief silence. It was right around the time the next song was about to start. At that moment, the thought struck me that the person vibrating my phone might not be her. I couldn’t tell if I was considering the possibility or hoping for it. Just… simply… that guileless face had crossed my mind.

I jerked my upper body up. In the process, one earphone popped out. But I didn’t even think to catch the falling bud. Looking at the screen I’d hurriedly opened, a smirk leaked out.

One of the three messages was from the woman—asking when I’d be home and telling me not to be late tomorrow. After deleting her worthless text from the screen, two messages remained vivid. While reading those short sentences, the corners of my mouth showed no sign of coming down. As if it were okay because of the darkness, as if it didn’t matter because no one could see.

[Sleep well]

[If you’re not sleeping, you might as well reply]

On this lukewarm July night, there wasn’t much of a temperature difference between my ticklish mood and the night air.

How long could these messages possibly be for me to be unable to take my eyes off the screen? Even these uncharacteristic actions of mine were fumbling along, melting into the night air. It felt as if a ticklish sensation was spreading through every inch of the classroom air so that nothing felt out of place.

I couldn’t just pass over the last text he sent, so I read it over and over again. The sulky expression he’d made at the snack bar kept flashing before my eyes.

How should I reply? Why am I even agonizing over this?

I roughly brushed back my bangs. As I tapped the fading screen to reopen the keypad, sweat instantly pooled in my palms. Thump, thump. My heart started racing mindlessly, as if it had leftover energy to burn. The song echoing in my ears was a slow-tempo ballad, but my pulse began to outrun it. My fingers moved on their own without consulting my brain. In this dark classroom, where I could hardly even perceive myself, this was definitely the perfect moment for things to break down.

[Not sleeping]

F*ck, call that a reply?

I needed to restrain my straying fingers. The moment I sent it, I wondered what kind of crappy response that was. I couldn’t undo it, ah, f*ck.

I yanked out the earphone that was barely hanging onto one ear. Right then—Vrrr—the phone rang. On the phone I’d reflexively lifted, a reply had arrived from the still-unsaved number.

[What are you doing?]

Does he still feel like texting after seeing such a sh*tty reply? What a simpleton.

With a heart slightly calmer than before, I moved my thumbs. I had to choose my words slowly so they wouldn’t go flying out on their own again.

[Lying facedown]

[If you stay like that and fall asleep, you won’t be able to turn your neck tomorrow]

[As if I’m you]

[How do you know I’m like that?]

[It just seems exactly like something you’d do]

The texts went back and forth faster than expected. I quietly chewed over the eleven-digit number displayed in the sender info. I was going to end up memorizing it at this rate. While debating for a moment whether I should save it, I became curious about what he had saved me as. His reply hadn’t come yet. Was he choosing his words? I figured it was better this way. I decided to take the initiative.

[What did you save me as?]

I waited without turning off the screen. I planned to save his number in a similar vein once his reply came.

Given Song Yun Jae’s personality, wouldn’t he have saved me as something like “Son of a B*tch”? It seemed like something he would honestly admit to, too. Then I could just save him as something similar. A smirk played on my lips. Why the hell do I keep grinning at this? I tried to force my expression back, but then used the dark classroom as an excuse to relax again.

“…….”

I waited for the phone to vibrate. I tapped the fading screen again to check the time and scrolled through the messages I’d sent once more. The music continued to echo from the earphones I’d tossed haphazardly on the desk. Because the volume was low, the intermittent sounds felt like noise. I pressed the screen, then listened to the noise leaking from the earphones, then scrolled through the texts again.

I repeated this for a long time, but—

“…What the?”

Why isn’t he replying?

Song Yun Jae didn’t answer.

I felt the floating air settle down. Unlike my calmed mind, the heat that hadn’t yet cooled flowed through my pulse.

The corners of my mouth, which had been maintaining an arc, slowly lowered. Past midnight, I watched the phone screen grow dim little by little before I finally turned it off myself.

The red warning light, hidden out of sight, was faintly flickering on.

Last night, when I returned home around 1 AM, no one was awake.

The woman—who was usually in the living room reading with the lights on or listening to music with a single dimmed lamp—seemed to have gone to the bedroom, as she was nowhere to be seen. When I opened my room door with a slightly lighter heart, the story changed.

A pair of brand-new sneakers, a backpack, and a wristwatch laid out neatly on the desk greeted me first. This was the woman’s doing; she knew if she left them in the shopping bags, I wouldn’t open them. It seemed tomorrow was truly the day. Is she embarrassed by my appearance? It was absurd. It was intentional that she left the price tags attached. What was she thinking as she took those luxury brand items out one by one and lined them up on my desk? Did she think I’d actually like this?

As I went to clear the items off into a corner of the room, a note left beside them caught my eye.

– Dress neatly for school tomorrow. Come home by 5 PM. The Chairman is coming.

It was my father’s handwriting. Seeing those words in his script, rather than hearing them in the woman’s voice, made me feel even more pathetic. The situation was so ridiculous I couldn’t even laugh; it made me feel sick. Was I being too sensitive? Crinkle. I tightened my grip on the note.

I didn’t need many thoughts between throwing the note in the trash, washing up, and going to bed. My task for tomorrow was already decided. Since my mind was made up, there was nothing to deliberate.

Except….

Whether I was unconsciously pulling thoughts of him to soothe my boiling irritation, or if it was because I had nothing else to think about.

His texts kept coming back to me. His sentences—devoid of emoticons or a hint of laughter—were so different from mine. Naturally, I couldn’t help but imagine the reply I’d been waiting for.

It was another dawn filled with fragments of Song Yun Jae.

I had long since missed the window for a deep sleep, and I was in a state of hyper-arousal from an unknown heat. Feeling as though I’d just closed my eyes and opened them again, I left the house before the people on the first floor woke up.

And since arriving at the classroom, I’d been feeling uncomfortable about the fact that someone who should be here hasn’t arrived.

The moment I heard the creak of the front door opening, I checked the figure.

“They say there’s a chance of a passing shower tonight. Did you all bring umbrellas?”

It was the homeroom teacher. My brow furrowed the second I identified him.

“Who’s not here? Raise your hands.”

The students were looking straight ahead. It was the teacher’s usual humorous way of speaking, but today, those words grated on me. While everyone else was looking at the teacher, I was the only one staring at the empty seat by the window.

“Nobody? Get ready for first period.”

“Yes, sir.” The heavy voices of boys who had passed puberty echoed through the room. The teacher simply nodded and made a show of scanning the room once more, but he made no mention of Song Yun Jae’s empty seat. What is it? Why isn’t he saying anything? I started to reflexively stand as the teacher left the room, but then hesitated. If the teacher was acting like that, it was highly likely he’d been contacted in advance.

…Don’t overstep.

Even as I pulled myself back, my gaze remained fixed on the window seat where Song Yun Jae always sat. Suddenly, the time when his texts had cut off last night came to mind.

I had a bad feeling about this.