MY 7

He took heavy steps away. Han Seolwoo did not grab him and only turned his head to stare at him. Won Wooje, who had been bending his upper body to shove his feet into his sneakers, raised his head.

“I shouldn’t get mad at someone who’s sick. Right.”

Their eyes met again, and he was smiling. However, there was no way to hide his chilled gaze.

Thud! The front door closed noisily. Left alone, Han Seolwoo stared blankly at the entrance. In the silence, only the red sensor light flickered.

Han Seolwoo, who had been gazing fixedly at the front door, let out a sigh. Bending his upper body, he picked up the plastic bag that had fallen on the floor. It felt heavy, whatever he had bought.

Abalone porridge, TyXlenol, MaXcassol, FuXdin, DaXband, ChuXa Chups, ViX Shikhye… What’s with the Shikhye, why did he buy that.

Masticating his words as if annoyed, he closed his eyes and ruffled his hair. It was a total mess.

After trying to calm his complicated mind and finally sitting at his desk, Han Seolwoo took a textbook out of his bag and spread it open. Since the subjects he missed during the 6th and 7th periods today were Math and English, he intended to look over them even by himself.

As for the notes, I’ll borrow the class president’s tomorrow and copy them. Since I lent mine before, it should be fine.

While his mechanical pencil made scratching sounds, he glanced at the phone sitting on the desk. The phone, which was exceptionally quiet, felt only awkward.

He stared at it stillly before turning his gaze away again. In the quiet room, only the sounds of writing and turning pages could be heard.

Read one paragraph, look at the phone. Read two paragraphs, look at the phone again. Read three paragraphs and look yet again, but the phone still has no intention of ringing.

Han Seolwoo silently glared at the innocent phone. However, no matter how piercingly he stared, no contact came from Won Wooje.

He let out a sigh. A shadow fell beneath his lowered eyelashes.

‘I shouldn’t get mad at someone who’s sick, right.’

He recalled the low, echoing voice, and the eyes that had cooled down, unlike the corners of his mouth that were curled up. He unknowingly gripped the mechanical pencil he was holding even tighter.

While he had occasionally bickered with Won Wooje, he had never felt this uncomfortable before. He felt annoyed because Won Wooje kept coming to mind.

Picking up his phone, Han Seolwoo pressed the familiar number. His finger hovered hesitantly over the call button before he soon turned the screen off again. A deep sigh escaped him like a habit.

Click, closing the textbook, he leaned against the chair and closed his eyes.

Won Wooje. He kept muttering those three letters of the name that were tumbling around in a clunky shape.

“Thank you.”

Han Seolwoo, holding the car door, greeted the driver.

“Shall I take you to the classroom?”

“No, it is okay. I can walk by myself.”

Han Seolwoo showed a smile at the worried words. As he closed the car door, the black sedan slid away smoothly.

Han Seolwoo limped slowly past the school gate. Passing students glanced at him. It was because, unlike the kids coming to school in their school uniforms, he alone was wearing a tracksuit.

Because he had to wear a half-cast, wearing the school uniform became awkward. He could not even pull up his school uniform pants, which had been narrowed to fit well. Fortunately, thanks to his mother calling the school in advance, he was able to ask for understanding and attend school in his tracksuit.

There was no contact from Won Wooje, with whom he went to school every day. Of course, he also stubbornly did not reach out. This was because it was certain that if he contacted him blindly while nothing was resolved, they would only hurt each other’s feelings.

Deep down, he just wanted to avoid the feelings that became more uncomfortable the more he thought about them. The more he thought, the more complicated it got.

Han Seolwoo let out a sigh. At the moment he lifted his gaze while moving with steps twice as slow as others, he saw a familiar back of a head in the distance. It was Won Wooje.

Blinking his large eyes, Han Seolwoo put strength into his limping foot. He followed behind Won Wooje quickly with a hopping gait. It was a thoughtless action, completely forgetting his previous distractions.

“Won Wooje.”

Han Seolwoo placed a hand on his shoulder. Won Wooje, with an expressionless face, turned his head. His sharp gaze slowly scanned Han Seolwoo. For some reason, his heart sank at the indifferent eyes that were different from usual.

Han Seolwoo hesitated for a moment. He had stopped him reflexively without a plan, but once he faced him, he became tongue-tied.

“…Did you sleep well?”

Won Wooje furrowed one eyebrow at the sudden morning greeting. As usual, he just stood diagonally with his bag slung over one shoulder and stared at Han Seolwoo.

“…I am sorry.”

“…”

“I was too much yesterday.”

Avoiding that blunt gaze, Han Seolwoo lowered his eyes.

Actually, Han Seolwoo knows too. That every action Won Wooje takes is for his sake. He understood well enough in his head that from Won Wooje’s perspective, he could misunderstand, and that it was a situation where he had no choice but to be angry with him. It was just that his heart did not want to admit it.

But seeing his face in person, he felt like all of that did not matter. Han Seolwoo did not want to fight with Won Wooje. He wanted to get along well with him, just as they always had. He wanted to laugh and chatter while sharing trivial conversations with him like usual.

Han Seolwoo, who had been slowly lowering the hand that was on his shoulder, gently grabbed Won Wooje’s forearm.

“…I won’t do that again.”

“…”

“Can’t you forgive me just once?”

He muttered and looked at Won Wooje as if gauging his reaction. When their eyes met suddenly, he deliberately gave a broad smile.

Won Wooje had no answer. He just stared at him with a look in his eyes as if he were pathetic.

However, Han Seolwoo knew this expression of his well. The fact that emotion had entered his expressionless face was a sign that his mood had softened at least a little.

“I am a patient… hyung.”

“…”

“Don’t glare at me so scarily.”

At the sight resembling a gentle puppy drooping its tail, Won Wooje clicked his tongue. He turned his head away sharply and scratched the back of his head irritably. Han Seolwoo just stood there quietly and watched his reaction.

A hand that suddenly reached out pulled Han Seolwoo’s bag off rather roughly. When Han Seolwoo tilted at the impatient touch, Won Wooje grabbed him with one hand and slung the bag over himself instead.

“Hold on and follow me.”

Han Seolwoo looked at the arm he held out. Fearing he might withdraw it soon, he quickly placed his hand on top of his forearm. The back of the hand, which was swollen reddishly, caught his eye, but he intentionally tried not to pay attention to it.

Han Seolwoo followed closely behind Won Wooje, who was moving his steps silently. His heart, which had been tense, was somewhat relieved by the implicit reconciliation.

“But why did you buy Shikhye?”

He threw out a random question because he hated the awkward silence. To improve Won Wooje’s mood, he had to become a chatterbox, the opposite of usual.

“…To eat it.”

“Shikhye out of the blue? Did you like Shikhye?”

Han Seolwoo tilted his head. It was because he usually enjoyed drinking carbonated drinks. It was not a drink that he liked either.

Won Wooje did not answer and walked slowly, then muttered quietly.

“…Because it is rice.”

“Huh?”

“Ah, fuck.”

Won Wooje, who stopped in his tracks, suddenly got annoyed. Han Seolwoo, startled, lowered his gaze to look at him.

“…Why are you swearing?”

“I bought it so you could eat your fill of rice and gain strength. Why.”

“What?”

“They say Koreans live on the strength of rice, the strength of rice. There is a shitload of rice in there.”

Han Seolwoo blinked at the words spoken bluntly as if they were a nuisance. A brief silence flowed. Han Seolwoo burst into laughter despite himself.

In the entire school, Won Wooje would be the only guy to buy Shikhye telling someone to get their rice-strength. At any rate, he could not keep up with his cute and peculiar ideas.

“Yeah. I got strength, Wooje.”

“…”

“Thank you?”

Han Seolwoo smiled affectionately. Won Wooje, who glanced at him, did not answer again and turned his head indifferently.

In the silence that returned, the two walked silently toward the classroom. Suddenly stopping, Han Seolwoo rummaged through his pants pocket. He skillfully peeled the wrapper of a strawberry-flavored ChuXa Chups and popped it into Won Wooje’s mouth.

“Give and take.”

Won Wooje stopped walking at the sudden action. And he glowered at Han Seolwoo.

“Bullshit, I am the one who bought that for you.”

Looking at the bulging cheek, Han Seolwoo bumped his head against his head.

“This or that.”

Won Wooje kept silent. Han Seolwoo, glancing at him, rubbed his head against his shoulder.

“Ah, Wooje-ya. Ease up on your expression.”

“…”

“Should I be your bread gofer or something? Huh?”

Han Seolwoo said while acting cute. It was because it seemed Won Wooje’s mood had not fully softened yet.

“Why, it is not easy to use such a great bread gofer. Huh? Huh?”

He blinked his eyes as if trying to look pretty. At the continued active request for reconciliation, Won Wooje let out a sigh. And he looked at him as if he were pathetic.

“Who uses a leg cripple as a bread gofer. You moron.”

Won Wooje scolded him. “Sigh.” he let out a sigh out loud. With his slouching gaze, the candy stick he was holding diagonally in his mouth looked almost like a cigarette.

Suddenly reaching the front of the stairs, Won Wooje’s arm crossed over Han Seolwoo’s back. Han Seolwoo’s balance leaned toward him at the strength that heavily supported and lifted him from behind. Receiving the support, he climbed the stairs with difficulty on his hopping foot.

“Come up slowly. Don’t slip for no reason again.”