TTDOTO 6.1

Jae-an had been raped by Seo Jae-rim.

The fact, carved like a tattoo, left him bedridden for a week.

The gash on his forehead, bruises from being slammed to the ground, and the pain forced to take something foreign for the first time healed slowly over the week, but his mind didn’t. No, it withered further.

Jae-rim’s footsteps sent his nerves to the edge, and his bold promise to “do it again often” chilled his hands and feet instantly. Tensing, he tracked Jae-rim’s every move, dreading another violation.

After a week, exhaustion set in. His body had no strength. The pain had mostly faded, yet it felt like a hole had opened somewhere, draining his energy.

His eyes darkened, lifeless, but oddly, he grew ravenous. He’d felt this when his mother died—his body sinking, an unnatural appetite surging.

Unable to eat properly, he suddenly chewed and swallowed a meal thoroughly, even did the dishes. Like before, he stepped onto the terrace, bummed a cigarette, and sat on the sofa.

But then he just sat. Doing nothing, staring blankly at the wall, passing the day.

“No tutoring?”

Jae-rim’s question broke a week of tense silence. Jae-an lifted his head, meeting his gaze. After a brief pause, dry lips parted.

“…Do it?”

Jae-rim, momentarily silent, stared into Jae-an’s hollow, light brown eyes reflecting sunlight.

“You wanted to go out.”

Without answering, Jae-an rose from the sofa.

“You’re telling me to do it?”

Brushing past Jae-rim, he entered the dressing room, changed, and waited on the sofa until Jae-rim was ready. On the way to the restaurant, Jae-an stared out the window.

As he quietly wrote equations, a hand slid under his t-shirt. Cold fingers grazed his warm skin, tickling. Unlike before, when he’d stammer and twist, Jae-an only held his breath.

Even when his nipples were pinched or a hand slipped into his pants without underwear, he didn’t resist. Yielding to Jae-rim’s desires, he finished explaining and set down the pen, signaling to solve the problems.

Jae-rim’s expression, watching him, was odd—pleased one moment, irritated the next. In the silence, as tutoring neared its end, Jae-rim’s phone rang.

Checking the caller, he stood, stepping away. The conversation was inaudible, but his face darkened.

Meanwhile, Jae-an fixed his disheveled clothes, waiting silently like a dead mouse. Jae-rim, ending the call, approached.

“Something urgent came up. Tutoring’s done.”

Nodding, Jae-an closed the workbook, packing his pen and pencil.

“Can you walk home?”

His hand, zipping the pencil case, froze. Slowly, his head turned, a strange question in his once-dazed eyes.

“Walk… home?”

“Yeah. It’s close enough.”

Seeing Jae-an’s face, Jae-rim raised a corner of his mouth.

“What? Planning to run?”

At the blunt question, Jae-an averted his eyes.

“As if. Our hyung isn’t that slow to learn.”

Jae-rim’s mocking tone curled Jae-an’s limp fingers on his lap. As if granting mercy, Jae-rim spoke lightly.

“It’s warmed up. Think of it as exercise, a stroll.”

Opening the office wardrobe, he stripped, changing into a black shirt, buttoning it swiftly.

What’s so urgent that he’s changing? As Jae-rim buckled his belt, their eyes met unexpectedly.

“Why’re you staring?”

“…I’m not.”

“Want to run? I’ll catch you again.”

“I said I won’t.”

With a weak voice, Jae-an stood. They descended to the first floor. Jae-rim handed him a takeaway iced Americano.

“Drink it while walking.”

Jae-an eyed the coffee and Jae-rim suspiciously, then lowered his head. The overly lenient attitude raised doubts. Over the crumbled guard, Jae-an blurted a suppressed question.

“You’re… going to do something dangerous, right?”

Jae-rim didn’t answer immediately. Jae-an shook his head first, not wanting the reply.

“No. I’m going.”

“Have a nice stroll.”

Standing outside the restaurant, Jae-an stepped slowly. After three steps, he paused, tilting his head to the sky.

A cool breeze blew. A stroll… Muttering softly, he moved forward. Walking home, he felt disbelief, stepping into freedom. It felt good yet awkward, making him hesitate.

His stern face softened upon reaching home, realizing he’d tasted full freedom. He brushed his face, breathing deeply. Not bad.

That night, Jae-rim returned late.

Washing up, he collapsed into bed, sleeping like a corpse. Waiting, Jae-an skipped dinner, going hungry. Tossing from hunger, sleep fled. Sitting up, he studied Jae-rim by dim light.

Scratches marked his profile and knuckles. He did something dangerous.

“…Jae-rim.”

He wanted to say walking felt good, and ask if he was hurt. But Jae-rim didn’t wake. Is he hurt? Sighing silently, Jae-an pulled up the blanket.

“Who’s worrying about who…”

Feeling absurd for worrying, he knew he had no right to pity Jae-rim.

After that, on tutoring days, Jae-rim let him walk to or from the restaurant.

It felt good, but knowing it was Jae-rim’s calculated move kept him from pure joy.

Jae-rim’s control resembled dog training. When the “tutoring” treat stopped wagging his tail, Jae-rim offered “a walk”—30 minutes of freedom. Knowing this, his tail wagged anyway. Time on untainted paths was precious.

He began anticipating tutoring days. Far from running, he went straight home, never straying. Acting like a loyal dog, he hoped Jae-rim would offer another reward.

“Done for today.”

“Okay.”

Tutoring ended. Jae-an wiped Jae-rim’s semen from his thigh, pulling up his pants. Aside from a flushed face, he showed little reaction.

As he left, a staff member started the coffee machine. “Americano after tutoring” became an unspoken rule. Leaning on the bar, Jae-an waited.

“The boss is learning math from you, hyungnim?”

Hyungnim. Male or female, the staff called him that. A female worker handed him the fresh Americano. Jae-rim must’ve openly shared the tutoring charade. His heart sank with tension.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think the boss cared about studies.”

Among Jae-rim’s masks, “boss” seemed friendly. Unaware of his biting and licking upstairs, the staff chattered about him.

Realizing he wasn’t smiling, Jae-an forced a corner of his mouth up, taking the coffee. Jae-rim entered the kitchen, adeptly preparing complex dishes. Watching his back, Jae-an wavered—was Jae-rim’s wrist-slicing a nightmare or real?

Gripping the paper cup, Jae-an spoke faintly.

“…Going.”

“Okay, hyung.”

Jae-rim, serving food, smiled prettily. Nearby staff waved.

“Bye!”

Leaving, Jae-an checked his reflection in the window.

No neck bruises from Jae-rim’s bites? No semen smell? No awkward gait from fingers in his hole? He inspected thoroughly.

Lingering, he stepped under the awning. Sipping the cool drink, he walked slowly, feeling the breeze, watching clouds and leaves. As home neared, the shrinking walk time felt precious, yet he feared losing this freedom.

“…Huh?”

His quick steps halted at a voice—not familiar, but unforgettable. Stumbling, someone grabbed his shoulder.

“No way. For real?”

“….”

“Can’t be.”

Reflexively, Jae-an shook off the hand. The man, as pale as Jae-an, stared, breath quickening.

“It’s you.”

Muttering, it was Jang Han-seong.

As Han-seong didn’t recognize Jae-an instantly, Jae-an didn’t recognize him. Emaciated, sallow complexion, lifeless lips, dark under-eyes—Han-seong looked like a corpse.

How could someone change so much in months? His breath reeked, a stench unlike any human scent.

“You’re… dead. I saw… the funeral.”

Stepping away, Jae-an’s wrist was grabbed tightly. He tried to shake it off, but it didn’t work.

“Fuck, thought I was high, seeing ghosts.”

Muttering, Han-seong spat, staring with unhinged eyes.

“Well, good you’re alive. Congrats, teacher.”

“….”

“Just one question.”

Jae-an held his breath, turning his head. He wanted to flee, but the grip tightened, pinning him.

Han-seong pointed a yellowed fingernail at Jae-rim’s restaurant.

“You’re close with the boss there, right?”

His breath caught. Jae-an froze, desperate to avoid entanglement, shaking his head.

“Don’t know him.”

“Don’t lie, you bitch. I heard it all.”

The fragile tension snapped, venomous words spilling. Jae-an’s feet felt unsteady. Unable to meet Han-seong’s enraged eyes, he dropped his head.

“I know you and that guy are tight. Lie, and you’re dead.”

Jae-an’s eyes narrowed. A nagging unease grew—how did Han-seong know Jae-rim?

“So what? What’s it to you?”

“Well.”

Questioned, Han-seong didn’t answer clearly. The unease wasn’t imagined—he clammed up about Jae-rim, smirking guiltily, scratching greasy hair, lowering his voice.

“You don’t need to know. I want something from him.”

Sniffing, acting shifty, Jae-an decided to steer clear. Avoiding his gaze, he replied.

“Whatever it is… deal with it yourself…”

“Fuck! He said he’d kill me if I came, and now this!”

Han-seong shouted in his ear. Startled, Jae-an dropped his coffee, black liquid and ice spilling on the asphalt. The noise drew glances from passersby.

Frozen, Jae-an saw Han-seong’s frustration, dragging his words.

“Sorry for yelling, teacher. I’m desperate, you think I’d grab you otherwise?”

Wiping under his nose, his red skin showed repeated rubbing. Muttering like a madman, Han-seong rambled.

“That day, just do what he says, get drugs for life, he said. Fuck life, can’t even get it now. Fuck, fuck.”

Jae-an, sensing something off, lifted his head.

“…Do what he says?”

He looked straight at Han-seong.

“What’s that mean? You did what he said? You met him?”

Han-seong, startled, grinned slyly.

“Curious? You know he’s a drug dealer, huh?”

Smirking, he leaned close, whispering.

“Can you get drugs from him? Anything’s fine. You’re close… If drugs are hard, just three million… He’s loaded, right?”

“Speak clearly. What did he make you do?”

Jae-an wasn’t listening. He couldn’t hear.

Why does Han-seong know Jae-rim? That day. Do what he says.

Piecing the words together, every combination pointed to one revolting possibility. His mind conjured the worst, but he fought it. No way, no way Jae-rim’s that vile.

“That day… the day we ate, and that happened…”

“Curious? Wanna deal?”

Hiccuping, Han-seong burst into laughter, gasping, scanning Jae-an.

“Teacher, think you got lucky, not getting fucked that day? Hic.”

“….”

“All thanks to me.”

Slurring like a drunk, Han-seong boasted. Jae-an’s fingers grew cold.