Chapter 26: Orange Blossoms and the “Gift”

Last Friday, I returned to the riverbank where I had walked for so long with Song Yun Jae.

I had never paid much attention to it before, and that day, I’d been so focused on the back of his head that I hadn’t really noticed the atmosphere. But the riverbank at dusk felt quite foreign. With no wind, the sunset light soaked into the surface of the calm water. It was a July evening where even a hint of coolness was too much to hope for. It was better than the daytime, but sticky sweat still rose up my back. I pulled out my earphones and turned off the music. Unlike the middle of Seoul, there weren’t many benches to sit on along the bank, but standing still for a moment to catch my breath wasn’t bad.

Since the woman’s father visited, she hadn’t said a word to me. She didn’t come up to the second floor to open my door for a weekend meal, and she didn’t send her father to grate on my nerves. I wasn’t sure if it was a relief or just odd, but what was even funnier was that my father treated me exactly the same way she did.

For a few days, I was grateful for their indifference, but I soon realized: she was treating me like a ghost. Even when we happened to cross paths, she passed by without even pretending to see me. I don’t know what she told the housekeeper, but on weekends, the woman had to be out of the house for the housekeeper to hurriedly and cautiously prepare my meals. It was intentional ignoring, pure pettiness.

“Hyun Uk, eat quickly. Call me when you’re done so I can do the dishes right away.”

Even though there weren’t any CCTV cameras, the housekeeper looked as anxious as if she were being watched, and it made me scoff. It’s not like they were trying to starve a s*ave who’d committed a crime. And it’s not like I’m some pathetic brat who can’t feed himself at this age. There’s a limit to looking down on someone. The blatant malice that continued every weekend was appalling. This weekend was the same.

Whether they were going to pay their respects or calculate when the chairman’s fortune would be handed over, my father and the woman visited her father’s house every weekend morning. It was a schedule they’d repeated even on days they weren’t busy, but lately, they were pouring both days of the weekend into it. Considering he’d booked flight tickets for my mother’s birthday, they were scheduled to go on a family trip this coming Wednesday. So, I figured they were busy sucking up to the rich chairman before the trip.

Accordingly, I studied at home in the morning, and around the time they were expected back—around sunset—I’d grab my phone and earphones and run to the riverbank near the school. The housekeeper, who had worried yesterday about me going out to exercise without eating properly, wasn’t there today.

My stomach felt empty from the long run, but my body felt light. Considering that just three days ago, I would have been eating dinner and preparing for night study in the classroom, the reality of “vacation” finally started to sink in. So, perhaps it was my mood that was lighter than my body.

Supplementary classes started tomorrow. Both the school sessions and the one Song Yun Jae suggested.

‘Today was like an orientation. From Monday, should we solve at least one page of a workbook before we play?’

‘Spoken like a true nerd. Wipe the soup off your mouth before you talk.’

‘…Hey!’

‘Have you never played before?’

‘I’m playing with you right now.’

‘Nerd.’

‘Even if you don’t solve them, bring them. Once break is over, the September mocks will be here in no time.’

‘What’s the point of worrying about the end of break on the very first day?’

I had said that, but I’d still packed a few extra workbooks in my bag. Whether I’d actually be able to solve anything—with my heart and my eyes malfunctioning whenever I was with him—remained to be seen. Still, those workbooks were a personal vow. A vow not to let things break this time. Even if I let things flow, I wouldn’t spend July being “broken.”

“…Haa.”

Of course, it might be a futile hope. Just thinking about Song Yun Jae from that day made my heart, which had been calming down, start to pound again.

“F*ck, I didn’t even need to go for a run.”

If it was going to be like this, I should have just stayed lying down and thought about that simpleton.

Following the thump-thump of my pulse, the image of Song Yun Jae looking at the Campsis flowers formed in my mind. Campsis flowers….

I checked the sunset dipping below the opposite bank. The light wouldn’t fade immediately. I hurried my pace. It wasn’t me who loved that scenery, it was Song Yun Jae. And even if I went back to that alley, it didn’t mean he would be there…. It felt like I was choosing to do the very “broken” things I’d vowed not to do, but I ran where my steps led me anyway.

Even this “ticklish” sensation felt like it was becoming familiar.

“Whoa, Song Yun Jae! You finally realized the importance of a tan.”

At the sound of his name from someone else’s mouth, my head turned reflexively. He was a bit later than usual, and I’d been sitting next to his empty seat, scrolling through the photos of the alley I’d taken yesterday. For some reason, he had taken off his cardigan and was walking into the classroom wearing only his summer uniform. I saw a guy who’d been in the same class as him last year approach him.

“I don’t tan even if I want to.”

“Men need tan skin for the girls to like them.”

Song Yun Jae’s eyes met mine.

“I like being pale.”

He gave me that answer and curled his lips into a smile. It wasn’t like I’d been caught staring, but the strange feeling made me turn away hurriedly. I turned off my phone screen and shifted my gaze to the workbook tucked underneath, but my ears were tuned to him.

“This guy is so old-school.”

The guy tapped Song Yun Jae’s bag and went back to his seat. Then Song Yun Jae came to his spot. Even without the cardigan, his scent wafted over strongly. I turned my head toward him as naturally as possible.

“I thought that cardigan was your second skin. Guess not?”

“It was more like armor than skin. But it’s too hot; I can’t do it. It’s hotter than last year.”

Even his calm voice felt ticklish. The sensation I thought I was getting used to wasn’t dulling; it was becoming familiar by spreading deeper. I stole a glance at his arm. There were faint yellow marks, but no new bruises. It seemed there were no new injuries I didn’t know about. That was a relief.

“The ointment?”

“I think I’m okay for a while.”

“Why? Did that ‘Great One’ go on an expedition or something?”

“…How did you know?”

His eyes went wide. I had no words. Whether he was innocent or just dense, his simpleton face was dead serious. My random guess had been right. I wasn’t sure if I should call it a relief. An “expedition”? Was that piece of sh*t not just some loser ruining his life over small-time games, but someone looking for “bigger water”?

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. They said he packed his bags and left; he hasn’t been back in a while. He took a bankbook with him, so I figure it’ll take some time.”

The indifference on his face made me feel even more heavy-hearted.

“I should just take this chance and run away for good.”

“Then do it.”

“He’d come looking for me at school and report me missing to the police. It’d be a mess.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“This Hyung has lived a more eventful life than you think, Hyun Uk.”

“Hyung, my ass. You’re just a kid.”

“Want to see this kid empty your wallet? To the snack bar?”

He laughed playfully. Looking at his thin forearms, it felt better to just let him “rob” me. Just as I was thinking that any direction the conversation took would be awkward, I remembered the photo on my phone. At the same time, the back of my neck grew hot. The realization that I’d intended to show it to him made me feel embarrassed for some reason.

“Are you that excited about the snack bar?”

“What?”

“Your ears are turning red.”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

“It’s true. Your ears—”

Irritated, I practically threw my phone at him. He barely caught it as it landed on his desk, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

“…What’s this?”

“Something you know better than me.”

His expression brightened as he checked the screen. And then, just like the first time I’d seen it, his eyes softened. Just as I was thinking his face looked quite pretty with that lingering smile, he looked at me with that exact expression. With eyes so vulnerable and warm, there wasn’t a single wall to be found.

Supplementary classes weren’t much different from the situation after finals. A designated teacher for each subject stayed in the room; some let us do self-study, while others printed out materials and workbooks to collect once finished. Perhaps because it was the first day, the students were full of complaints about the lack of freedom. The most peaceful one among them was definitely Song Yun Jae.

“Is this a gift?”

I’d been at a loss for words, stammering at his bright smile, and had to settle for stealing glances at him until the clock hit 1 PM. While I thought I looked ridiculous, I couldn’t control my eyes gravitating toward him. So, the moments when the teachers left the room every fifty minutes were actually a relief for me. I could lie down and pretend to sleep to avoid looking at him until the bell rang for the next session. But as soon as it hit 1 PM, he grabbed my bag as if it were his own.