Chapter 113: Peace Was Only A Dream

I dreamed a peaceful dream for the first time in a while.

He pedaled with all his strength.

The faster he rode the bicycle, the louder the innocent laughter ringing out behind him became.

He wanted to keep hearing that sound.

Forever, without it ever stopping.

A pleasant scent drifted from the fluttering hem of the school uniform behind him.

Cha Eun-gyeol’s scent.

Han-geon secretly drew in a breath and carefully stored it deep in his lungs.

Even though the wind charged at him and messed up his hair, it felt good.

Ahead of them now was a hill.

Even as he complained that it was heavy for no reason at all, Han-geon’s thighs kept pumping the pedals even harder.

‘Ah, you’re heavy, Cha Eun-gyeol.’

‘What are you talking about, you weigh more.’

‘That was ages ago, look at how tall you are now.’

‘You’ve got a lot of muscle though, here and here too.’

Delicate fingers shamelessly poked at his sides and stomach.

Han-geon’s body stiffened hard.

Thankfully, before his ears could turn bright red, Eun-gyeol pulled his hand away.

Just as Han-geon was about to relax, Eun-gyeol’s scent rushed in all at once.

Standing behind him, Eun-gyeol playfully wrapped his arms around Han-geon’s shoulders and gave a cheerful command.

‘Go faster.’

The sweet voice shattered softly against his ear.

Like overly sweet chocolate.

‘Let go, it tickles, and just you wait.’

Grumbling on purpose, Han-geon grabbed Eun-gyeol’s hands and pulled them off, then started pedaling hard again.

Carrying the weight of two boys nearly grown felt like his thighs were about to burst.

Enduring the burning pain in his legs, he finally reached the top of the hill.

Watching Han-geon pant for breath, Eun-gyeol giggled mischievously and poked his side.

‘Let’s go down quickly.’

‘Huff… just a second… you little punk, do you know how… huff… hard this is…’

‘Departing, okay, we’re going now?’

‘Hey, you crazy—ah!’

A hand suddenly shot out from behind and grabbed the handlebars however it pleased.

Even as he screamed that it was dangerous and cursed loudly, Han-geon had no choice but to put his feet back on the pedals.

Ssaeeng—

The bicycle raced downhill.

The bicycle carrying the two boys cut cleanly across the slope.

His entire body felt electrifyingly good.

The wind burrowing into his sweat-soaked forehead and hair felt unbelievably welcome.

All the way down, Han-geon and Eun-gyeol laughed until their teeth nearly fell out.

‘Ah, that was fun.’

‘You drive tomorrow.’

That air of bickering as they fixed their messy hair.

The special thrill they could only feel when riding a bicycle together in matching school uniforms.

And those childish days when Han-geon shouted that he liked Eun-gyeol, only inside his own heart, every single day.

The moment he opened his eyes, the clear blue sky scattered in an instant.

Waking from sleep, Han-geon blankly stared at the window dyed in darkness.

Was I happy back then?

Even though the question surfaced without warning, Han-geon could answer immediately.

He had definitely been happy.

Those were the days when Eun-gyeol was his entire world, and at the same time, the most brilliant days of his life.

Han-geon clenched the edge of the blanket tightly.

A painful groan slipped out.

They were moments long past, days that could never return.

He knew that well, and yet… he couldn’t do anything about the overflowing sadness.

He couldn’t control it.

The dream he had just had felt like a ritual, a way of saying goodbye to those dazzling childhood days.

As if, only now, he had finally let go of Eun-gyeol, whom he had loved so deeply, from his tightly clenched grasp.

In the room where dawn was faintly breaking, Han-geon cried.

He cried until every last fragment of that sorrowful yet beautiful dream drained out of his body.

***

Each step he took was careful.

Even though he had only come out holding a single trash bag and a few summer clothes to throw away, Han-geon descended the stairs very slowly.

His belly had grown large enough that he could no longer see his toes clearly, so he had to be especially cautious on the stairs.

“Haa…”

After setting the trash bag down at the disposal area and stuffing the clothes into the donation bin, Han-geon slowly caught his breath.

His body felt incomparably heavier than it had the month before.

Even a little movement sent his breathing right up to his throat.

Still, it’s only because I have some basic stamina that I can endure this much.

Thinking positively, he was just about to head back toward his tiny room when—

“……”

Han-geon froze as if nailed to the spot.

His head turned involuntarily.

He carefully scanned the empty alley entrance where no one stood.

His senses sharpened instantly, and his heart began to race.

After standing there for a brief moment, Han-geon turned away without hesitation, wearing a bitter expression.

Again.

Seriously, these ridiculous delusions have been happening more and more lately.

“Haa…”

A deep sigh escaped on its own.

Could this, too, be a side effect of imprinting pain that had been worsening?

He kept feeling as though Eun-gyeol’s presence was lingering nearby.

Han-geon knew.

There was no way that could be true.

It was probably just his mood playing tricks on him.

When Eun-gyeol had tried to follow him, crying, Han-geon had made it absolutely clear.

The last thing you can do as the child’s father is not hold me back.

At those words, Eun-gyeol, who looked ready to rush at him at any moment, froze in place, unable to move.

And leaving him behind like that, Han-geon came all the way here without looking back.

A month had passed since then, and during that entire time, Han-geon had been plagued by the same delusion.

That Eun-gyeol was lingering around him somewhere.

That if he went just a little closer, he might be able to reach him.

That Cha Eun-gyeol’s pheromones felt as if they were drifting from somewhere very near…
Even knowing it was an excessive fantasy, it was hard to shake off.

But it was nonsense.

More than anything, given Eun-gyeol’s personality, there was no way he would quietly circle around while knowing Han-geon’s location.

If he had found him, he would have appeared immediately.

Even if it meant begging like before, he would never hide himself like this and simply watch without taking action.

Maybe this was nothing more than the pathetic lingering attachment created by severe imprinting pain.

Thinking that, Han-geon let out a self-mocking smile.

Lately, the imprinting pain had been acting up even more fiercely.

It was probably because he had briefly come into contact with Eun-gyeol’s pheromones a month ago.

It was like someone dying of thirst being allowed to hold just a single drop of water in their mouth.

The pheromones he had felt while carrying a child were intoxicating.

So much so that he wanted to lose his mind over nothing more than a blanket infused with Eun-gyeol’s scent.

The violently intense traces he left behind carved scars into Han-geon’s body that would never fade.

But it seemed the scars weren’t limited to his body alone.

His head was spinning unbearably.

Eun-gyeol’s tearful, pleading face kept resurfacing.

The frequency with which he thought of him, day and night, was far too high.

From that point on, Han-geon could no longer deny that this wasn’t just a pheromone issue.

To be more honest, the everyday life Han-geon had painstakingly built while dreaming of stability was now swaying again like a boat caught in a storm, ever since he had met Eun-gyeol.

Those knees that had boiled as they hit the ground without hesitation.

The raw, unfiltered truth he had never once heard from Eun-gyeol before.

That fragile face that cried and stumbled through apologies until it felt like his heart would melt entirely……

None of it would fade.

It was as if it had stuck firmly to his retinas and ear canals.

At times, Han-geon even wondered if it had all been a dream.

That feeling grew especially strong whenever Cha Eun-gyeol appeared on the TV he had absentmindedly turned on.

Staring blankly at that face loved by everyone, perfectly suited to the word “flawless,” he couldn’t bring himself to believe that the man smiling so dazzlingly on screen was the same man who had knelt before him and cried with such desperation.

Just as Han-geon was about to go inside, he hesitated, then turned around and stepped back out of the building.

It was an early summer evening with sweet air and a clear crescent moon hanging overhead.

Maybe taking a light walk and grabbing a small snack from the convenience store would help lift this sunken mood.

“5,700 won.”

“Yes.

Thank you.”

Ding—

With a cheerful sound, Han-geon exited the convenience store.

He walked aimlessly with a bag of snacks hanging from his wrist.

After only a few steps, he was already out of breath, so he walked, rested, and walked again, slowly circling the neighborhood.

Just as he thought that summer seemed to be arriving unusually early—

‘I… I realized I like you… far too late.’

That thick voice replayed in his ears once more.

Han-geon squeezed his eyes shut.

He stopped walking, inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

Even so, that same voice kept buzzing relentlessly by his ear.

He had to admit it now.

Walks and snacks were nothing more than temporary distractions, ultimately useless.

No matter how hard he tried to shake it off, Eun-gyeol’s lingering image clung to him like a pitch-black shadow cast at his feet.

In truth, Han-geon vaguely understood the source of his confusion.

Thinking about Eun-gyeol frequently was no longer the problem.

The real issue was that the sight of Cha Eun-gyeol crying and begging on that last day did not feel hateful to him at all.