Joo Unyoung reached out a hand, his face thankfully calmer than before.
Jingi hesitated before taking it.
He had been terrified that someone might see them and think it was strange, but the second floor was silent, all the students having cleared out.
He glanced back briefly, but Joo Hyeonje was nowhere to be seen.
A sense of guilt pricked at him, feeling that the relationship between the two brothers was worsening because of him.
After all, as Joo Hyeonje had said, he hadn’t actually done anything “bad” to Jingi.
Even the act of going upstairs to hide had been Jingi’s own suggestion.
But he couldn’t very well take Joo Hyeonje’s side either.
“Unyoung, look…”
“Quiet and follow me. We’ll talk once we get to the classroom.”
“O-okay.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear a red warning siren blaring.
Jingi decided that as soon as they reached the classroom, he would kneel and confess his sins until Joo Unyoung’s heart softened.
Of course, he wasn’t sure if Unyoung would even believe him, given that the situation looked suspicious to anyone.
Even he couldn’t explain why, of all things, he had hidden from Joo Unyoung with Joo Hyeonje, only to be caught in such a strange position.
It was true that Joo Hyeonje had forced the situation, but he worried that saying so would only make Joo Unyoung more upset.
He also felt guilty for not knowing about the birthday and for lying to stay with Joo Hyeonje.
‘Whatever Unyoung says, I have to listen. It’s all my fault, my fault…’
Jingi entered the classroom with a gloomy face.
The empty Classroom 7 was deathly quiet.
Other than Jingi’s bag, from which stationery was spilling out after he’d packed in a hurry, and Joo Unyoung’s neatly organized bag, the room was empty.
“Sit there. Let’s talk, Choi Jingi.”
Jingi sat as told, biting his lip.
He rubbed his knees with his hands to soothe the chill, or tried to trace patterns on the floor that looked like human faces.
But these distractions didn’t last long. Joo Unyoung tapped his fingers against the desk.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“…Huh?”
“That you have no intention of being with me—fine, let’s say that’s that. But why do you keep ‘leaking’ yourself around since that day?”
He was clearly referring to the first day he had possessed this body.
Jingi understood the first part, but not the second.
‘What did I ‘leak’…’
It was frustrating to be told that. If anyone was “leaking,” it was Joo Unyoung.
He went around smiling at every man and woman he met with that pretty face of his, so of course, people were going to be attracted to him.
Just the other day on the way home, some college girls had tried to ask for his number.
“You just kissed that bastard Joo Hyeonje, didn’t you?”
“Huh?”
His eyes widened at the sudden, out-of-the-blue question.
Joo Unyoung’s head pounded at the innocent response.
He pressed two fingers into his temples, gritted his teeth, and asked again.
“I know you didn’t do it because you wanted to, right? No, wait, I can’t be sure of that either. Just be honest. I won’t get mad.”
‘No, I’m pretty sure you will get mad…’
Jingi let his shoulders slump, placed both hands between his thighs, and swung his legs a few times.
“I, absolutely not! Never! I didn’t do anything like that. We’re nothing to each other. Really, I… I’m not gay.”
“Then why are your lips like that? Both yours and his.”
The image of Joo Hyeonje’s lips, reddened from the ten or so slaps he’d given him, flashed through his mind.
‘…Right. Kissing until your lips are swollen is a common trope in novels.’
Given how suspicious it looked, Joo Hyeonje’s lips were swollen because Jingi had slapped them, and his own were swollen because he’d bitten them in panic.
Only then did he understand why Joo Unyoung was suspicious.
“Th—that senior… I hit him. To tell him to be quiet.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
Jingi hunched his shoulders like a cat with its fur standing on end, gripping his chair tightly.
Cold sweat seemed to be trickling down his back.
“Alright. I’ll believe you.”
“Oh, okay! Believe me, please. It’s the truth. I… there’s no way I’d do that.”
“I said I believe you.”
At the low voice, Jingi nodded vigorously and clenched his fists.
He felt relieved, thinking it was over, but Joo Unyoung tilted his head again.
His fingers tapped rapidly against the desk.
“Then what about that.”
“What…?”
“What I asked earlier.”
‘Earlier?’
He blinked, searching his confused brain, but couldn’t recall what he meant.
Was it because too many things had happened at once?
Jingi watched Joo Unyoung cautiously, opening and closing his hands.
“Being with another guy… right in front of me. Throwing yourself at guys who clearly have other intentions.”
His voice was clipped, filled with tension.
Jingi parted his lips, recalling the first question from earlier.
So, he meant… was it true that he was “leaking” himself around?
“N-no… I, I’m not! I don’t have anything going on! If anything, Unyoung, you! You do it more…!”
His voice grew loud with frustration before shrinking back down.
Joo Unyoung laughed briefly at the answer, then bowed his head low.
His thick platinum-blonde hair fell forward slightly.
“Fuck… what the hell am I doing, really.”
Looking frustrated, Joo Unyoung loosened a button on his uniform and ruffled his hair.
Jingi realized that something was wrong with Joo Unyoung.
Like most children with attachment issues, he was obsessed with his friends.
‘Why aren’t you playing with me? Why are you playing with him instead?’
That kind of thing.
“Unyoung, for starters… I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your birthday, so I told you I was going out with others.”
“What?”
“The school trip. Playing with the girls… I just… no, I’m sorry. It’s my fault for forgetting. I’m sorry. If I had known it was your birthday, I never would have done that.”
“…Would you have played with me if it weren’t my birthday?”
The quiet mutter didn’t reach Jingi’s ears.
He was doing his best to convey his true intentions to Joo Unyoung.
His wandering gaze finally landed on the desk.
Jingi looked up at Joo Unyoung again and continued.
“And… just now, I thought you were in a bad mood… I thought you’d be even angrier if the senior was there, so that’s why. I wasn’t trying to avoid you or run away. I was trying to send him somewhere else, and somehow… that happened.”
As he stammered out the explanation, Joo Unyoung’s distorted expression softened a little.
Jingi licked his dry lips and continued.
“And… I want to be close to you too, we’re friends, right? Like, you don’t think I’m… really, I don’t have anything like that with the other kids! Reaaally! To me, they’re just friends, friends!”
He tried to comfort him as carefully as he could, as if coaxing a child.
It might not be polite to say these things while apologizing, but since the topic had come up, it was better to clear the air.
He was only eighteen, but he had abandonment issues and an older brother who tried to harass him.
He didn’t know what kind of life he had lived, but his heart ached for him.
The Joo Unyoung he had seen in the original story seemed so bright, but meeting him in person, he realized the boy carried a lot of pain.
“You’re close with the others too, right? Let’s all four of us get along, okay?”
He had no choice but to look after him until graduation.
This was Joo Unyoung, who originally would have become Choi Jingi’s lover, received warm affection, and become a wonderful adult who overcame all adversity with him.
A movie came to mind—a friend who craved affection, the protagonist who avoided him… and when the protagonist finally visited years later, the friend sat in a mental hospital with a hollow face, staring at a tree, looking as if he had lost everything, like a tree in winter.
“Are you crying?”
“Wh—no! Sniff, why would I cry?”
“Your eyes are red.”
Jingi tucked away the overly sentimental feelings.
His eyes were a bit moist.
Joo Unyoung reached out with a stony face and grabbed Jingi’s chin.
He hurriedly flicked his eyes up to the ceiling and then back down quickly.
“You are crying.”
“I told you I’m not.”
Joo Unyoung wiped the moisture from the corners of his eyes with his thumb and let out a small sigh.
Jingi pushed away the arm holding his chin and turned his head away.
‘Hey, you’d cry if you watched that movie too.’
“Hey.”
“Yeah.”
Joo Unyoung seemed a bit tired.
Jingi rubbed the area around his eyes with his hand, wondering if any tears remained.
‘What could he possibly be hesitating to say?’
The moment he swallowed and locked eyes with him, Joo Unyoung bowed his head deep.
“First off, it’s not my birthday.”
“What?”
“I think something was set wrong… anyway, it’s not.”
His excitement fizzled out.
‘Then what was that in the original? Did Choi Jingi give it to him by mistake, and he just accepted it?’
As he stood there with a dazed face, wearing a look of ‘Then why?’, Joo Unyoung parted his lips as if to say something else.
Then he sighed again.
“Forget it, let’s go.”
“W-wait a second.”
Anxious, he reached for his arm, but his limp hand ended up gripping Joo Unyoung’s index finger tightly.
He held onto it like a child clutching their mother’s finger, unable to let go.
“Why.”
“No, are we just going like this?”
“Then what else… are you hungry?”
“I am hungry… but that’s not it! Why do you stop halfway through talking?”
Embarrassed, he quickly let go of the finger.
Joo Unyoung rubbed his neck, tilting his head from side to side.
His expression looked so tired that Jingi’s eyebrows drooped.
He wondered if he had seemed foolish for speaking so sincerely.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, never mind…”
“No, I understood what you said. What I meant to say… I’ll tell you later, later. I don’t think it’s the right time to talk about it yet.”
He met the eyes of the guy who had answered a bit too hastily.
Joo Unyoung looked down at Jingi from his tall height and let out a soft laugh.
He was bathed in the slow, fading orange light, just like when they first met.
“Why… are you laughing?”
“Because you’re cute. You’re like a dog.”
“Huh?”
‘Like a dog? He’s swearing at me out of the blue, at such an unexpected moment?’
…Jingi knew that wasn’t what he meant.
He rubbed the back of his heating neck and lowered his head.
His cheeks burned red.
‘What is up with him?’
“Let’s go. What do you want to eat?”
“Oh…”
Joo Unyoung swung his bag up and gestured with his head for him to pack his stuff.
In the end, Jingi scrambled to pack his bags, slung one over his shoulder, and followed him out.
It seemed like he had said the right things, since his anger had subsided.
And more than organizing the conversation they’d just had…
“I want Yukhoe-bibimbap (raw beef bibimbap).”
“Sure.”
…food was more important.
