"That'll be one thousand three hundred won," said in a soft voice the tall, older woman behind the cash register.
He rummaged in his pocket, pulled out some bills, paid for three buns of sweet red beans, pulled a warm scarf over his face, and after saying good-bye to the clerk, leisurely walked out of the store. On the way out, a cold wind immediately struck, which smeared across his face and scratched the delicate skin of his flushed cheeks.
After skirting a small snowdrift, the guy moved toward the bus stop, pulling out a tightly wrapped bun on the way. He sank his teeth into the soft, flavorful dough and smiled contentedly. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Sliding his fingers across the screen, he opened the messages:
"Hyun-i, have you met him yet?"
Taking another bite, he licked the stuffing that dripped onto his fingertip, and quickly typed:
"No, Mom, I'm still going. I went to the store to get something for a snack."
Immediately the reply came:
"Ah, okay, okay...I'm just so worried~ As you meet - hurry home."
"Okay."
As he corresponded with his mother, he didn't notice that his foot once again got bogged down under a deep layer of snow. Pulling it out and shaking it off, Du Hyun swallowed a piece of bun, which immediately melted in his mouth, and shoved his hands into his pockets and walked to the bus stop.
He had waited four months for this day, so the anticipation of the meeting that Hyun felt inside was quickly replaced by impatience.
It was early morning. The snow-covered streets, snowed in with the January snow, looked deserted. Somewhere in the distance could be heard the sound of winter tires cutting across the road, and the quiet voices of people rushing to work.
After ten minutes, Du Hyun finally reached the empty bus stop. After scratching his cheek, he exhaled and sat down on the icy bench, first putting his backpack under him. Checking his messenger for new notifications, he bit his lip in frustration.
His last message was still unread.
He decided to occupy himself with something to occupy his time, so he turned on the game he had recently downloaded. Sparks crawled across the screen from different directions, and a quiet, wistful song played in the background. Boredly intertwining his fingers, Du Hyun slid them over the animated piano. All that was on his mind was the hope that the right bus would soon arrive. Remembering the table set with food that his mother had hastily prepared, he smelled the imaginary smell of cheesy snacks, and bit his fingernail.
Du Hyun's face looked peaceful, but inside he was exploding with excitement.
Today was the second shift, so, after lying around all last night, he planned to finish his literature project before the first class started. He went into the group chat room, texted a couple of messages to the headmaster, and asked about the amount of work to be done. He, probably gritting his teeth, replied a few minutes later, putting a frightening period at the end of the message.
The elder was always like that.
As he immersed himself in the game, he suddenly heard the creaking of an old bus pulling up. Lifting his head, Du Hyun pressed his lips together in frustration.
The wrong one.
As the humming vehicle came to a halt, Du Hyun's eyes were fixed on the phone screen, watching the piano keys disappear. The door creaked open, and two rough black boots walked across the crisp snow. Du Hyun clenched his teeth as his finger missed a key, and the screen abruptly displayed a warning of loss.
"Thought I'd be caught in a hug right away, but I certainly wasn't expecting such a cold greeting."
Startled by the familiar hoarse voice that sounded very close by, Du Hyun threw up his head and jumped to his feet, throwing himself forward and clutching the stranger's body with his hands. Burying his face into the icy jacket, Du Hyun uttered in a voice overflowing with happiness:
"I'm so happy to see you!"
A big warm hand landed on the back of my head.
"Reciprocally."
Fingers slid over the black hedgehog on my head.
"Did you get a haircut? In the last pictures you sent me, your hair was longer."
Du Hyun nodded, pulling away from the guy. He stared at him for a second, but then clung tightly to the thick sleeves of his winter down jacket again. Jensen really was a handsome man. His thick black hair, just below his shoulders, was in a sloppy low ponytail, and some of the strands were already covered with a thin layer of frost; his brown eyes, in the cool morning sun, had a dark red sheen to them.
Jensen, catching his cousin staring at his own face, grinned slightly, and two tiny dimples appeared near his chapped lips. He pushed the warm red scarf up higher, and patted Du Hyun's head.
"I hope you didn't freeze your ass off in the cold."
Du Hyun shook his head negatively, picking up his backpack from the bench.
"No, I just got here recently, so I'm fine. Why did you come on this bus? It's a different number."
Jensen threw a huge gym bag on his shoulder and followed him.
"I had to change buses. The diesel at one of the last stops froze up. They put us on another one. I couldn't text you-the phone died from the cold."
Hyun nodded understandingly. He went into his backpack and got agitated.
"Are you hungry?" Du Hyun took a bun out of his bag and handed it to his brother. His eyes immediately flashed.
"Ohhh," he mumbled, quickly grabbing the pastry and starting to unpack it. "What is it with?"
"Beans."
"My thanks," Jensen sighed loudly as he took a huge bite and almost completely nibbled on it, mumbling a couple more "thanks" with pleasure.
Du-Hyun was ready to jump for joy. He hopped up and immediately texted his mother that they were on their way back. Jensen glanced at his phone and grinned slightly.
"Auntie must be graying from excitement by now, ahah."
Du Hyun looked at him, and a quick glance escaped his lips:
"You can call her Mom now."
There was silence between them.
As if he realized what a foolish thing he had blurted out, Hyun felt his ears flare up, and at the same moment he pulled his scarf bashfully over his face in an effort to hide. Jensen's jaw moved slowly, and as he finished chewing, he nodded thoughtfully:
"Okay."
Hyun looked at him doubtfully, but, not noticing the anger on the stranger's face, smiled weakly.
Four months ago, his mother signed an adoption agreement. The process was long: at the time, Jensen was still in an orphanage and sometimes went away to a sanatorium for treatment, so his arrival was significantly delayed. During this time, Aunt Du was able to enroll him in the school that Hyun himself attended so that the brothers would spend most of their time together. Du Hyun was incredibly happy about this. The whole time they corresponded at a distance, he felt like a lonely boat sent out to a raging sea.
They were inseparable as children until he and his mother had to move to Busan.
"Mom decided to put us in the same room," he said. On the one hand he didn't like that decision much - he was a 16-year-old boy who needed his own space, but on the other hand he was glad.
Jensen looked at him, the corners of his mouth curving slightly.
"Really? Gloriously glorious. I have such a fucking chance to piss you off tonight!" he laughed, putting his arm around his brother's shoulder. Hyun rolled his eyes, pushing him in the side with his elbow.
He hadn't expected there to be ice under the layer of snow. Jensen's face suddenly changed from playful to frightened, and he slipped and flew down. Hyun, in an attempt to grab him, caught his fingers in the red scarf and pulled him toward him. Jensen, lying on the ground, groaned defiantly:
"Ouch, don't choke me, sadist!"
Hyun froze frightened, unmoving. Eyes the size of saucers stared at his brother warily. He, sprawled in the snow, smiled. Hyun let go of the scarf and, with a cluck of his tongue, stepped aside, holding out his hand. Jensen, after lying there for a while, got up with the grunt of an old grandfather and picked up his bag.
"And I could have cracked my head open," he complained.
"Yeah, only the Hulk is tougher than you," Hyun sneered.
Jensen laughed, flicking his bangs back from his forehead, and put his arm around his shoulder again.
"Okay," he nodded nonchalantly. "Let's go home soon. I think my toes are starting to get numb."
Hyun, hearing this, hurriedly grabbed his brother's shoulder and dragged him toward the main road.
A violin howled happily in his soul.
***
At the door, Jensen hesitated. His fingers clenched tightly on the leather handle of his bag. He looked nonchalantly around the black door and bit his lower lip. Hyun touched his back supportively, giving him a little pat.
"It's okay," he said, barely audible.
Jensen wiped the clinging sweat from his forehead and grinned nervously.
"Mm-hmm."
It was quiet in the entryway, but a cat mewed pitifully somewhere downstairs. They smiled at each other, and the door suddenly opened. A thin woman's face peeked out of the doorway. When she noticed Jensen, the owner brightened up and smiled sweetly.
"Come in, come in quick," the woman said impatiently, pulling them both into the apartment. When she closed the door with the latch, she quickly turned to the boys standing in the hallway. "How did you get here?"
"Fine," Hyun replied, pulling off his jacket. "Just a little cold."
The woman grudgingly nodded.
"Well, I told you! You should have worn something warmer."
Hyun rolled his eyes.
Jensen smiled slightly as he watched them, but when he felt someone else's curious gaze on him, he shrank back a little. The woman clasped her hands together and looked at him with a slight half-smile.
"You take your clothes off, too. Your socks are probably all wet."
Jensen followed her words and untied the wet scarf first.
Once in the kitchen, the aroma of warm chicken soup wafted up his nose. Hyun took a few greedy sips of water from the clear glass and, spreading his arms, looked at his mother and brother, frozen near the table. The woman's gaze shifted to her son, and she raised her eyebrow slightly, hinting. He nodded imperceptibly, and then lazily dropped it:
"Okay, I'll go carry the bags."
Picking up his backpack and gym bag, he rushed quietly into the room.
The woman fidgeted nervously with her fingers.
"So...how did you get here? Is everything okay? No one hit on you along the way? Cause there's all kinds of thugs. They pick on everyone," the concern in her voice was all too palpable.
Jensen exhaled, and hummed:
"It's okay. If someone was picking on me, I'd give them a fucking..." he stammered, and awkwardly scratched his pale cheek. The woman, as if not noticing the misfire, still looked at him softly. "In the face. Just like that.
"I'm glad to hear it," Du San said good-naturedly. "Who would teach my son to stand up for himself like that?
"I will teach him," Jensen promised.
There was silence.
A thin woman's hands gently and reverently encircled his back. Jensen shuddered, and after standing as a pillar for a few moments, hugged his aunt back. Tears came to her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her hands gripping his shoulder blades tightly. The black turtleneck on his shoulder was wet. "What took so long... Four months... I tried to hurry them up with the paperwork as fast as I could, but they kept denying it. I thought they wouldn't even give you back! It was so horrible...
"It's all right now," Jensen reassured her after a silence. "I'm here now, and I'm definitely not going anywhere.
"I'm glad," the woman sobbed, pulling away, wiping her cheeks with thin dry fingers. "I'm so glad. Yes, everything will be all right. We'll take care of you."
She laughed a little, exhaling in relief.
Jensen lowered his eyes.
"Mother would be grateful."
Du San felt a pain in her heart.
"I know."
"Thank you for taking me...into the family."
The woman, unable to hold back, cried again.
"Those three years have been incredibly hard for you, and I regret not being able to deal with it sooner."
Jensen shook his head.
"It's not your fault, the treatment took enough time. But I'm... glad to be here now. Thank you."
His hands trembled.
"Thank you for not abandoning me."
Du San wrapped her arms around his face and squeezed lightly.
"I would never leave my nephew."
They stood next to each other for a while longer, but soon pulled away with awkward laughs.
"I should probably go unpack my bag."
The woman nodded vigorously, smoothing the creases of her gray kitchen apron.
"Sure. Then go straight to breakfast, I'll heat it up," she darted toward the towel-lined plates and lifted one of them and put it in the microwave.
Jensen headed into the room, but halfway through he was suddenly stopped.
"Jensen! Classes start on the second shift today," the woman quickly informed the boy. Wiping her hands with a dry napkin, she stretched a smile on her lips. "Are you coming? Or is tomorrow better? You'll get your rest just right."
He shook his head in the negative.
"I'll go tonight. Thank you."
"All right," Du San's unjuvenated face suddenly seized with doubt. She licked her lips nervously and asked softly. "This may sound selfish, but..."
"Thanks, Mom."
The woman shuddered. Jensen, without waiting for an answer, moved into the room.
Du San turned away and slowly walked to the table. Unconsciously squeezing the skin on her palm until it was red, she covered her face and wept bitterly.
Hyun finished dressing just as his brother entered the room, the door creaking quietly. He looked at him in surprise and, noticing the red eyes, decided not to ask unnecessary questions. Taking white pajamas out of a large closet, the boy handed them to Jensen.
"Here. Mom bought it last week."
Jensen grinned as he unwrapped it. On the fabric in the center of the chest was the furry face of a brown bear. He glanced at Hyun, who had turned away, and lifted the corners of his lips cheerfully. There was a short bear tail on the back of his pants.
"Are these a paired pajamas?"
Hyun frowned at his brother and gave an unnatural sniffle.
"They were on stock."
"We look like sisters."
Jensen sat down on his bed across from his brother's and stretched out on the bed, massaging the muscles in his sides tiredly.
"Get changed," Hyun urged him. His brother's black top flashed over his head. He tossed a clean towel over his face. "And take a shower. I can unpack your bag for now, if you don't mind. We'll go to school this afternoon. I'll show you around."
"Okay, okay," Jensen brushed it off.
He stood up and scratched his neck, looking around the room.
It was exactly like the pictures Hyun had sent him months ago. A small wooden table, two chairs-one old and worn, the other new. It had obviously been bought quite recently.
Jensen felt a pang of shame at the thought of the money Du San had spent on it.
In the corner was a tall beige closet with a full-length mirror. Above Hyun's bed hung several posters of his favorite idols. Over his shoulder, Jensen noticed two colorful posters of the game he'd once been a fan of on his wall.
An involuntary smile spread across his face.
Turning back around, he looked at the back of his squatting brother, who was searching under the bed for his slippers, and frowned.
Something inside him collapsed at the same instant.
Jensen jumped up from the bed and quickly approached his brother, grabbing him by the shoulder. Hyun cried out muffled, startled, and looked at his brother with frightened eyes.
"What is it?"
"Where did that come from?" Jensen lifted the edge of his pajamas and pointed to the two huge green bruises spread out on the guy's thighs. His voice sounded harsh. "Who did this?"
The guy's fingers trembled slightly.
"What scum left them?" raising his voice, Jensen squatted in front of his brother and brought his pale face closer to him.
Hyun had never seen his brother so...intimidating, but he didn't move away and only averted his eyes ambiguously. Jensen, not getting an answer, helped him up and, picking him up by the forearm, sat him down on the bed. It creaked noiselessly and sagged under the weight of the two men. Du Hyun began nervously rubbing the skin of his fingers, trying not to look at his brother, but he touched his face and turned him to him and asked again:
"Who did this?"
Hyun's lips turned white and trembled. The expression on his face became anxious.
It was as if his sore spot had been hit.
Jensen exhaled heavily, silently, and pulled his brother to his shoulder in one motion, hugging him tightly. Biting his lips against the back of his neck, he felt fingers on his turtleneck, clutching the fabric, and spat out a loud, desperate one:
"Fuck."
The room was filled with stifled sobs.
***
As he entered the teachers' room, a short schoolboy, carefully closing the door behind him, approached the teacher. The woman, distracted from her papers, looked up and smiled at him fleetingly.
"You called for me, teacher?"
She nodded, handing him a stack of stapled papers.
"Yes, Namgun. Your first class is going to be literature, isn't it? Could you give these papers to the teacher? I don't have time for this - I'm completely overwhelmed, but thank God there's you," the woman hinted.
Namgun pressed his lips together grudgingly. He didn't want to have to deal with paperwork at all.
"All right," he replied, squinting his eyes.
"Thank you, Namgun.
He left the office and walked down the empty corridor, waving his papers carelessly.
"Why am I always the delivery man? I'm not the headman, why the fuck do I have to carry the goddamn papers anyway? Who the fuck needs them?"
Almost to the office he wanted, he heard footsteps approaching behind him. Horror shot up his spine.
He knew very well who their owner was.
"Hey, Namguni~ Do you want to hang out for a while?"
His legs were stuck to the floor and refused to move. The hand clenched tightly on the papers.
Namguni. Namguni. Namguni. Namguni. Namguni. Namguni. Namguni.
Again and again and again and again.
A drop of cold sweat ran down his forehead.
The corridors of the school narrowed, limiting his view.
Wide windows, like honeycombs with dangerous black bees lodged in them, surrounded him on all sides.
Blood rushed over his upper lip, and it twitched impulsively.
He felt like a fish on dry land, squeezed by a broad, wiry hand and a sharp-sharpened knife held to his gills.
"Namguni~"
The cold voice sounded so close, as if a worm had entered his head and lodged itself there, humming softly.
Ruthless fingers lay on his neck and drew him forcefully to him. Cold lips pressed against his ear.
"Why the silence, eh?"
Glancing sideways at the boy beside him, Namgun, feeling a slight choking sensation, squeaked a soft "I'm sorry". The fingers immediately disappeared from his neck.
"I forgive you," the blond guy nodded with a smile. He pulled away and leaned lazily sideways against the wall, shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose, informal pants. A beaming smile spread across his handsome, young face. "What have you got there?"
He nodded at the crumpled papers in Namgun's hand.
The boy stood still as if he had lost his voice altogether.
"What is it?" asked Gum Dae Han more insistently.
Namgun swallowed and tried to answer:
"I-it's..."
"Don't moo."
He shuddered as fingers dug into his shoulder with horrible pain, squeezing the bone.
"That's for the l-literature teacher," he squeezed out, feeling the tears coming.
"Oh well," Dae Han nodded languidly and disinterestedly. "Well, it doesn't really fuck with me. What about the money, Namguni?"
Hovering over the trembling boy like a rock, the guy stretched his lips in a questioning smirk.
Namgun was stunned.
He hadn't brought any money with him today.
"I...um...I don't have any money," he squeezed out fearfully and closed his eyes, waiting for another punch in the face.
It was impossible to read in Dae Han's face what he was thinking. Every movement, every slight kind smile of his was a trap.
He would set snares and lure and then greedily pounce, chewing out every last bit of it.
"Hmm."
Namgun, not waiting for the heavy slap, opened one eye.
Dae Han took his hands out of his pockets and sniffed his nose.
"I see."
The next moment, Namgun was grabbed by the neck and thrown inside like a rag doll, opening the door of the first classroom he saw. His nose hit the floor and he groaned as blood spurted onto his hand. With a loud slam, the classroom door closed.
Namgun, eyes wide open, froze.
"Pin him against the wall."
His hands picked him up by the scruff of the neck and threw him mercilessly against the wall, near where the bookcases were. He elbowed himself on the corner of one of them and howled in pain. Blood stains showed through his white shirt.
Dae Han approached his face sharply.
"Shake out his bag," he boredly tossed his buddy. He picked up the dusty black backpack from the floor, unzipped it, and flipped it open. The books rattled out of it.
"He really doesn't have any money," sniggered another guy, who scattered books across the floor with his slipper toe and stepped on them, leaving muddy marks on the covers.
"Interesting," Dae Han said thoughtfully.
He threw a glance at the guy standing in front of him and at the floor. When he noticed something, he smirked an intrigued grin.
Namgun, feeling his stomach twist deep inside him, pressed his sweat-wet back against the wall. Dae Han pulled away and, bending over, picked up a...sharpener from the floor?
It was filled with shavings from the pencils Namgun had forgotten to throw away before school today. Dae Han wiggled the sharpener playfully in the air, glancing glimpses at the guy standing across from him.
"Why is it full?"
"I...I forgot to put it away."
"Forgotten," Dae Han repeated dryly after him. He gently brushed away the blond strands that had fallen on his forehead, and sighed. "And I thought you were a clean-cut boy, Namguni.
Sensing a suspicious note in the other man's voice, Namgun hurriedly replied.
"I...I'm clean! I can clean up."
Dae Han looked at him and nodded affirmatively.
"You're right. We should throw this in the trash can."
He pressed it confidently against the boy's chest and held up his hand and put the sharpener in it.
"Throw it away, be an obedient boy, Namguni."
Namgun gulped loudly. He slowly broke away from the wall, rushing to the trash can in the corner of the classroom, but his powerful hands immediately pinned him back down. He gasped from the impact on his back, and his eyes narrowed in bewilderment.
"I told you to throw them in the trash."
Namgun squeezed the sharpener and babbled incomprehensibly:
"I..."
"Open your mouth, Namguni."
His heart sank into his chest in fear.
Dae Han pressed against him with his body and whispered in his ear:
"And throw it away."
Several of the guys were standing behind him, relaxed with their hands in their pockets.
The looks on their faces said it all.
"Wha...?"
"I'll help you," the guy smacked his lips cheerfully. He lifted his black eyes, where a shadow had fallen on them, and smiled briefly. "I'm a good sunbae, after all."
Grabbing the sharpener and pressing his finger, Dae Han opened it.
There was a quiet click in the classroom.
***
The last minutes of recess were always exciting. Some were trying to finish their notes, some were not preparing for anything, opening their food boxes instead. Others were either on their phones or gossiping loudly.
When the teacher entered the classroom, the talking stopped and everyone, as if on cue, fell silent. A man with a short, unkempt haircut adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses and cleared his throat:
"Put the phones away and let the lesson begin."
Several of the boys groaned grudgingly.
"It's still a few minutes before class starts, after all!"
"If we start early, we'll finish early," the teacher muttered.
"Who cares, we've got three more classes ahead of us anyway."
There was a commotion. He slapped the table with the edge of his hand and furrowed his brow.
"Shut up. I said we're starting the lesson, so we're starting it," he cut off sternly.
Dae Han shook his leg boredly, leaning back in his chair. The girl sitting at the next desk threw a confused look at him and turned away when her friend bent over and tugged at her sweatshirt, shaking her chin disapprovingly.
"Okay, today we..."
Noiselessly the door opened. Several of the boys cast quick glances and froze. The teacher, noticing the suspicious silence, turned toward the door. His eyes, peering through his glasses, twinkled strangely.
"That's right! I completely forgot. Guys, this is your new classmate, he..."
Dae Han, hearing this, shifted his cool gaze to where everyone was staring.
In the doorway, leaning wearily on the corner of the door, stood a tall figure.
Taking his hand out of his pocket, the boy raised it and knocked lightly, as if asking permission to enter.
"His name is El Jensen," the teacher hastily introduced the newcomer, pushing his glasses down to the bridge of his nose. "From this day forward, he will be in your class. Love and welcome, as they say. Come in."
Gum Dae Han huffed, feeling the tension in the air.
El Jensen's eyes, lingering like molasses of thick honey, and a strange condescending smirk were directed at only one person.
Dae Han.
"Come in," the teacher repeated in a sterner voice.
Jensen was wearing his typical school uniform-white skin-tight shirt, dark blue pants, and a large blue jacket resting carelessly on his shoulders.
He was tall, though. Very tall. Six-foot-nine?
His hair, which was tousled by the weather, was pulled up into a high ponytail. On his nose were round silver-rimmed glasses, giving him a special charm. The image of the bad boy, closely merged with the image of a model boy had a unique effect.
Jensen walked leisurely into the classroom, not taking his eyes off Dae Han.
A fixed gaze, alluring, like the smell of a bright sweet spreading in the mouth...
Suddenly his face changed. Smiling brightly in a childish way, Jensen greeted his classmates with a bow and uttered:
"Take care of me!"
Several of the girls in the front rows blushed at his loud, high-pitched voice. They whispered, smiling attractively at each other. The teacher interrupted them:
"There's a free seat over there. Sit down, El Jensen, we're about to start class."
Nodding, the boy moved along the classroom.
Dae Han watched him intently and warily, like a dog ready to defend its last piece of meat. As the newcomer walked past him, he suddenly felt two icy fingers penetrate behind his scruff and shove something in there. Twitching, Gum Dae Han stared angrily at the guy and wanted to yell, but the teacher, tiredly watching the one-sided altercation, only shiked sharply, shutting his mouth. Clenching his teeth, he shook a small crumpled paper out of his collar.
Reaching for it, Dae Han saw a pair of bare skinny ankles behind him at the desk. Picking up the note, he returned to his previous position, pulling a haughty mask over his face, and opened it. On the piece of paper was written in sloppy black pencil:
"Do you like it harder or softer?"
Turning his head so sharply that even his neck crunched, he saw Jensen quietly taking apart the bag. Placing the pencil case on the table, he noticed the unkind look and leaned back in his chair and winked slyly.
Enraged, Dae Han jumped up from his seat, but a twisted astronomy magazine landed on his head immediately. The teacher, grinning unkindly, pulled the bully by the ear, whispering something angrily to him.
The class laughed. Jensen, watching this, took a pen out of his pencil case.
He stared into the back of the boy's head from the front with gloomy eyes, and slowly ran his tongue down the inside of his cheek.
The front of the work definitely craved his attention...