Jensen picked up a towel from the floor and put it on the dryer. Slowly scratching the back of his head, he sat down on his made-up bed and stared at his frozen brother. Clearing his throat, the boy asked:
"Ahem, nothing else has been said about this?"
"They don't divulge details," Hyun squeezed out through sheer force, trying to concentrate.
Just this afternoon he had seen this guy alive and relatively healthy, the next minute he was hospitalized, and a couple of hours later he was dead. It didn't fit in his head, which still had the brittle teenage voice that belonged to a classmate answering a question posed by the teacher.
Hyun's hands trembled slightly, as if they were under a strong stream of icy water, and his lips, white with shock, which he clenched tightly, scratching his teeth, moved nervously.
"The class teacher wrote that everyone will have to come to school tomorrow morning and take certain tests," Du Hyun muttered, putting his palm on his forehead. Jensen nodded understandingly. "Classes are canceled for the rest of this week due to...tragedy, so it will be okay to go home after taking the tests."
Jensen exhaled. A drop slid down the back of his neck, leaving a damp trail behind him.
"Does Du San know?"
Hyun nodded.
"Yes. Mother said we should be careful not to get involved with questionable companies. She also asked you to stop fighting anyone," the boy said, his eyebrows raised, pointing to his red knuckles, and then, noticing a new cut on his cheek, he sighed and frowned. "Really, Jensen?"
"Sorry," El shrugged, covering the scratch with his hand. "I can't help it."
"You went out to the store and already got a scratch from...what's that? A knife?!" Hyun flailed his arms. The expression on his face changed to one of concern. "Next time what? A rebar to the head?"
Jensen's eyes darkened unconsciously.
"Hyun, you have to realize that sometimes talking isn't the most appropriate thing."
"Yeah, every conversation you have always ends up with someone getting pi...! Aah! Fuck it!" Hyun brushed it off and, tossing the phone away, shuddering from the messages, he jumped abruptly out of bed and turned away angrily, starting to quickly straighten up the bed.
The guy's scowl on his face made Jensen grin. Staring at the stranger's scrawny figure that landed creakily on the cool bed, he got up and flicked the light switch after walking a couple of meters. The light in the room immediately went out, leaving only the faint tint of the moon on the windowsill.
Seeing Hyun wrapped up in a thick, warm blanket, Jensen hummed and lazily flopped down on the bed.
The dark ceiling looming overhead kept a strange shadowy outline in it. Biting his lip, Jensen checked his phone, which also had a hundred messages about what had happened, and turned to the wall and closed his eyes.
Hyun let the top of his face out from under the blanket and, half-turning around, glimpsed his brother falling asleep. Hundreds of thoughts languished in his head.
"He won't stop, will he," Hyun thought confidently, exhaling tensely. He cared madly for his brother, with whom he had spent almost half of his childhood, but he knew that no request other than the one that concerned his own life would be answered. If Jensen wanted to, he would keep pounding on faces, getting in return.
"Fool. Just be okay, that's enough."
A muffled sniffling could be heard from the next room. Du San, having finished unpacking the bag and her favorite show, finally went to bed.
***
After passing the necessary tests, Jensen, grabbing his brother along the way, headed for the exit, but Hyun stopped him in the hallway and said softly:
"The guys and I asked the teacher to borrow an office to finish the project and turn it in next week. So go home alone today."
Jensen froze, looked briefly at the teenager, and pursed his lips.
"Is everything going to be all right?" he inquired quietly.
Du Hyun smiled slightly.
"Yeah. I'll see you at home."
Looking at the receding figure, Jensen felt inward agitation, but immediately silenced it. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, the boy turned around and headed for the exit. He was planning to visit some unpleasant company tonight, so the desire to sleep and rest was incredibly strong.
A chill wafted down the empty school corridors. Fresh, frosty air drifted across the floor through the ajar windows. Jensen buttoned up his jacket and rubbed the reddened tips of his ears with his fingers. His loud footsteps interrupted the pressing, tense silence.
Near one of the nooks, on a windowsill, teachers laid out a memorial photo and some stuffed toys in memory of the dead teenager.
Pusan's Nangham School froze in anxious anticipation.
After saying goodbye to the indifferent security guard, Jensen opened the doors and stepped outside. A freezing stream of wind immediately hit him in the face. Poking at his phone, he checked his messenger and the few messages he received from Du San that she would be back later than usual today.
"Most importantly, don't overwork," El wrote back with his fingers slightly shaking from the cold.
"Jensen."
Hearing his name from someone else's lips, the boy immediately looked up. The rubber band holding his short black ponytail loosened slightly.
By the pillar supporting the roof overhanging the steps, Jamin stood in a relaxed pose. His jaw was moving slowly, chewing on a lingering piece of fruit candy, and his pale cheeks were flushed. Long black bangs slightly covered his sharp, dark eyes.
Jensen hummed, tucking his phone into his pocket.
"Were you waiting for me?"
Jamin leaned lazily away from the pole and shrugged.
"Come with me," he nodded, turned and moved down the steps.
Said it like he cut it off.
Jensen arched an eyebrow, and with a curve of his lips, followed him.
The schoolyard was strewn with a thick layer of sticky snow. Jensen, as he neared Jamin, threw his head back and looked up at the dark sky.
"Where are we going?" he asked muffled.
Jamin turned his head toward him and leaned over and pulled a tiny pink wrapped candy from his pocket. The senior handed it to the boy with a faint smile.
"Have you ever skated?"
EL unwrapped the sweet candy and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"As a kid. But it was a terrible experience. I had bruises on my knees for about a week."
"Would you like to do it again?"
Jamin looked him straight in the eye. Jensen tasted the fragrant strawberry flavor on his tongue, raised the corner of his mouth faintly, and hummed.
"If it's without injury."
Jamin exhaled, feeling something strange inside. He tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded toward the bus stop.
"Then let's go."
When the big ice rink came into view, Jensen remembered all his falls and quickly shrugged it off. They had to get off two stops early and walk for about twenty minutes along the heavy drifts and the sudden freezing wind. Chom Jamin put the boy on a bench and asked him to wait for a while.
The rink was surprisingly deserted. It made sense, though, because it was an early weekday morning outside.
Jensen didn't understand Chom Jamin's ultimate goal. In some ways this guy was rather strange and a bit aloof, but he sometimes smiled brighter than the sun, and his loud, ingratiating voice was capable of outshining his surroundings. He wanted to...get close?
Jensen promised himself he'd get a better look at him, but for now he only wanted to distract himself from the thoughts of the evening's fight.
A stranger's outstretched hand and a pair of wide black skates appeared beside him. Jensen gave them a little shake and pursed his lips.
"Ha-ha, now that I look at them, I'm starting to have a little doubt," the guy said with irony in his voice.
Jamin, who had already managed to get his skates on skillfully, looked intently into his eyes.
Over his shoulder, he held out something weighty and shoved it mercilessly into the frozen Jensen's hands.
"I got kneepads for you."
Oh. Was that...nice?
Jensen stretched his lips into a smirk and obediently began to put on his shoes. When he'd finished and checked the protective gear on his lap, he straightened, shaking his black hair, and, with a yelp, immediately hooked his fingers on the back of the bench to keep his nose from crashing into the walkway. Jamin, noticing it out of the corner of his eye, hurried to his side to back him up, but quickly put his hands behind his back when Jensen, having regained his balance, turned to him with a glowing face.
"Well, I'm ready. I leave myself in your care," he said with a chuckle.
Jamin nodded and moved with a strange face toward the ajar low gate of the rink.
A guard was smoking by the booth, glancing over and over at the schoolboys.
When the blade of his skate touched the crust of the ice, Jensen immediately grabbed the edge and pressed himself sideways against it. His fingers turned white as he gripped the painted wood, trying not to roll into the center of the court. Jamin raised his eyebrows as he neared him.
"So you can only stand against the board, too?"
EL nodded.
"Okay, let's take a lap."
Jensen, shifting his unruly legs, slowly made his way along the edge. Jamin glided smoothly beside him, occasionally glancing sideways at the eagerness with which Jensen moved forward. The corners of Chom Jamin's lips barely lifted at the sight of his wary face and his keen gaze on the ice.
Step by step, Jensen moved unhurriedly forward. His hand was a little sweaty from the constant rubbing against the side. A cool wind, bringing with it soft flakes of snow, blew on the back of his neck, ruffling his short black ponytail.
When halfway through the lap, Jensen exhausted himself and, grinning, licked his lips. His legs buckled, and he slowly collapsed. His knee pads saved him from a hard bump on the ice. Jamin sprang briskly toward him, leaning over.
"What happened?"
Jensen's palms touched the ice and pressed hard against it. The guy lifted his head and, exhaling frantically and smiling sarcastically, said:
"It's just, um, the ice is so nice, so I'm touching it..."
Jamin chuckled, catching the obvious hint in someone else's voice.
"Have you ever roller-skated?"
Jensen's eyes widened unconsciously.
"Oh, this subject is even more painful, I hate roller skating. My mom and I went to the park once, and she told me if I made it to the playground without falling, she'd buy me ice cream," EL flinched at the memory. "I somehow made it to the playground, and then some stupid skater crashed into me. My head hurt, of course, but I've never skated again since."
"It happened to me, too," Jamin began. His pale face was a little red from the cold, so his usually cloudy dark green eyes looked like a bright spot on a fluffy cloud. "When I first got up on skates. Then..."
It was impossible to tell from his face what Jamin was thinking, but Jensen somehow sensed that the man wanted to say something that tormented him, but the words just wouldn't come out.
Jamin pursed his lips and finished coldly:
"...I came to the rink alone. It took a long time to learn before I could even get from one board to the other."
Something in his tone alerted Jensen.
Jamin took a deep breath, looked up at him with blinding eyes, and muttered:
"But it's just the two of us here. No dumb skaters. Get up. I've got an idea."
Jamin touched the sleeve of his warm jacket with his thin fingers and pulled him along. Rising on shaky ice, Jensen gripped his hand with his palm, watching in bewilderment as the boy quickly began to back away from him.
"What...what are you doing?"
When he reached the other side of the curb, Jamin stopped and turned around to look at the older boy with a faint smile:
"I know how to motivate you."
His voice sounded a little cocky.
"If you make it to me without falling once, I'll take you to a restaurant."
Jensen felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him from above. He squinted suspiciously.
"To...a restaurant? Is there enough money? What if I actually make it?"
Jamin pursed his lips:
"There's definitely enough money. We'll order whatever you want."
"Why so generous?"
Chom Jamin tilted his head and, with his pale lips parted, casually threw in:
"We're buddies, after all. I just want to have a good time."
Jensen stiffened, and scratching his eyebrow, grinned suddenly. An excitement arose inside.
"Then you should stock up on big bills. I like a good meal."
Jamin only smiled at his words.
"Go ahead, then," he swung his arm in the air and leaned back quietly on the curb.
Exhaling, the boy strained his legs and moved leisurely forward. The crust of ice beneath his feet creaked longingly as the blade sliced across the surface once more.
At first, he felt stiff. After all, his past skating experience had left an indelible imprint on him, and every movement was forced and heavy. He spread his arms wide, as if he were going to pull someone into a bear hug, and, swaying, he rode slowly forward. And quite successfully.
His expression spoke for itself. Emotions were raging inside.
Jamin, watching the tall fellow waddling clumsily over his legs, gave a quiet, barely audible chuckle. Such an image evoked strange feelings in him for some reason.
Jensen smiled and shouted:
"If anything, I adore japchae*! Open your notes and take it down!" a chuckle escaped his lips.
The dancer, covering his mouth with his hand, grinned again.
"Of course."
However, the joy did not last long. Distracted by the older man, Jensen lost his coordination, and his right foot, sharply shifted, pulled him forward with his face. He flinched dumbfoundedly and, closing his eyes, managed to get his elbows under his chest, but when he felt a flash of pain in his nose, he could not cope with the moan that burst from his throat.
The pain was terrifying.
A pair of hands snagged on his shoulders and pulled him up. The expression on Chom Jamin's face crackled with worry.
"Does it hurt somewhere?"
Jensen grabbed the bridge of his nose and grimaced at the burning that shot through his skin.
"Did you break your nose?"
"No, it's fine..."
He sat down on the rink and looked around hazy. The guard at the booth was gone.
Through the redness, Jamin saw a bleeding scratch showing through. He reached into his pocket and took out a pack of dry wipes. Putting one of them on the injured bridge of his nose, Jamin crouched down on the ice himself. Their knees touched, gently.
Suddenly his eyes locked on another scratch on his left cheek. The boy frowned and held out his little finger and touched it faintly with the tip. Jensen felt a slight tickle and stared at the older man across the street. They silently burned each other with their eyes.
Jensen wanted to ask, but the question seemed to evaporate from his mind. Someone else's warm breath touched his cold, pale face.
After sitting like that for a few more minutes, he blurted out lightly and slightly disappointed:
"I also want jukumi**."
Jamin didn't understand what he was talking about at first, and then, with his lips pressed together, he could only laugh softly.
"You love to eat."
"I just absolutely adore it."
There was laughter in the air at the same time.
"Well," Jamin said thoughtfully, removing the napkin from the bridge of his nose and examining the pink wound, "you certainly deserve a japchae."
He helped the lad to his feet, stepped toward the gate, took him under his arm and steadily raised him.
"That's enough injury for today."
"So you're taking me to the restaurant after all?" arched his eyebrows, and Jensen asked with interest.
Jamin, looking at his curious face, frozen in anticipation, playfully slapped him on the forearm, immediately pulling him tightly against him.
"You're coming to the Gancu Hall the day after tomorrow, aren't you? We'll shoot some shots, and afterwards I'll take you to the restaurant."
Jensen nodded, and stumbled over the threshold, almost falling face first again as Jamin immediately grabbed hold of him and pulled him toward him.
"I'll be more careful," Jensen promised with a smirk.
Jamin just rolled his eyes.
They gave up their skates and walked slowly to the bus stop. Afterwards they had a casual conversation, so they got to the bus rather quickly. When Jensen took a seat by the window, he closed his eyes tiredly, feeling the soft seat under him instead of the hard ice.
"You know where I get off," he said, "wake me up, will you? I'm going to take a nap for a while."
And, with a sigh, he put the back of his head down on the backrest. The sounds around him were gone, and so was the quiet "okay" from Jamin.
Outside the window was a bright, snowy street and a swift whirlpool of people hurrying somewhere.
When the bus tilted sideways at the next turn, Jensen's head jerked involuntarily.
Jamin squeezed her fingers together, and, thinking, reached for her chin. His hand gently touched the stranger's wet skin from the thawed snow and nudged slightly to the right.
The boy's head collided with his shoulder. A quiet sniff scorched his ear.
Deja Vu.
Jamin bit his lower lip and drew in air with difficulty through his nose. The tips of his dark hair slid gently down Jensen's cheek, waking him up. The high school student opened his brown eyes and glanced sideways at Chom Jamin, who was staring indifferently at the cars passing through the bus window.
The tangy smell coming from someone else's jacket permeated his nose.
EL lowered his eyes and stretched his lips in a smirk.
There was the sound of a bus opening its creaking door at the bus stop.
***
After saying goodbye to Jamin, he returned home and after turning the key a couple of times, walked into the completely empty and quiet apartment. So Hyun wasn't back yet. Unclothed, he hung his wet jacket on the coat rack and went into the bathtub to examine the wound on his nose. Grinning at the sight of the red scratch, he reached for the first aid kit. Soaking a cotton swab with hydrogen peroxide, Jensen hissed as he felt an unpleasant tingling sensation.
Finishing the necessary procedure, he headed into the kitchen, turning on the lights in the apartment on the way. After rummaging through the refrigerator, Jensen, after some thought, decided to boil some ramen.
After a while, when his stomach was full, he, having washed the dishes behind him, moved to the bedroom. As he entered the room, Jensen reflexively scanned it with his eyes and frowned in surprise at the colorful tip of a magazine peeking out of his brother's nightstand.
A hunch flashed through his mind.
The boy pulled his lips into a tube, grinning:
"Is that a porn magazine?"
As he approached the box, he poked it lightly with his fingertips, and in the same second, he tsked sadly.
"Ah, no, math."
Flopping down on the bed, he didn't have time to unlock his phone before a notification immediately popped up on the screen.
"What the...?" Jensen furrowed his brow, reading the message from a stranger.
"Five o'clock today. You know where to come up."
"Ladybug?" - he quickly texted back.
There was silence on the other side.
"Ugh," Jensen exhaled and rested his head on a cool, soft pillow that felt like an airy cloud.
The desire to keep Du Hyun safe from bad people had existed in him since he was a child. He was almost the only child Jensen spent all his time with until his brother and Aunt Du moved away because of the death of their family member, his father and husband. Uncle Du was a good man, but he was unlucky with his health.
Once again scrolling through his head with thoughts full of "what if", Jensen, without noticing, clenched his fingers tightly on his phone, which suddenly received another message.
"My name is Naene."
EL snorted hoarsely, still not typing a reply.
All the "what ifs" were in the past. He wouldn't lose now.
Japchae* - this dish refers to sweet and savory fried glass noodles made with danmen (noodles with cellophane starch from sweet potatoes) and topped with various vegetables, meats, and mushrooms. It is seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil.
Jukumi** is a well-known spicy Korean food of fried octopus fried in oil, marinated in gochugaru red chili sauce.