Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a very hot day, too hot for the beginning of spring, and the stuffy air from the oily food and noisy groups of people in the restaurant made it even more unbearable. Sweat was running down Gyuvin's temples into the collar of his top, which clung to his back from all the heat and grease he had come into contact with over the last six hours. He couldn’t wait to get home and throw his clothes in the washer and rinse all the sticky fluids off his body. 

With an empty tray in hand, he wriggled through two occupied tables, a small child was crying on his left and a couple was arguing on his right, almost reaching the same altitude as the crying child next to them. Gyuvin held his breath for a moment and glanced at the clock on the wall on his way to the kitchen, which fortunately gave him the relief he desperately needed. It was six minutes to four, which meant six minutes until his shift was finally over. 

Sundays were particularly stressful in the restaurant, but apart from the higher salary, the working hours were better than trying to squeeze them in  between school and studying during the week. 

He pushed the door to the kitchen open with his hip, and the noise level seemed to drop at least a little. The voices of the visitors were muffled and replaced by the hissing of pans and deep fryers. Gyuvin tried to pass through the kitchen as quickly as possible to avoid any last tasks that would keep him longer in this hellscape. Putting the trays down in the sink, he snuck through the back door to the break room. 

"Shouldn't you be working?" 

Gyuvin let out a sigh, more annoyed than anxious. He had worked hard for six hours instead of playing computer games and reading comics or just lying lazily on his bed before the stress of the week started again. Who thought these few minutes were crucial for him to get paid? 

"Calm down, it's just me." The accompanying voice put a hand on his shoulder, and  Gyuvin turned around to look into two mischievous eyes. 

Relieved, he let out a sigh, "Hyung, you scared me.”

The face of the other boy scrunched up into a wide grin, showing whisker-like dimples on the apples of his cheeks. "Well, you wouldn't have been scared if you hadn't done something wrong." Glancing at his wristwatch, he raised an eyebrow and added, "Three minutes before closing time? You're already clocking out! Th, th." 

With a roll of his eyes, Gyuvin started moving again, and the hand on his shoulder, along with the rest of the body, moved with him. "Pretty busy today." 

"Sundays." Before Gyuvin could even reach the hook for the employees' aprons, the knot around his waist came undone, and instead of falling to the floor, it was caught and hung up by Hanbin. "Go on, I'll just start my shift three minutes earlier." 

Gyuvin smiled gratefully at his friend, and because emotions were a thing too big to contain on his body, he gave him a hug for good measure. Hanbin, also someone unable to control his love, warmly embraced him back before he gave the younger one a quick pat on the back.

"Now, off you go before I change my mind." 

Gyuvin knew that Hanbin was just joking but took that as his signal to leave. “Thanks, hyung, and good luck for uni tomorrow." 

"Yes, yes. And you'd better study for your school today. Almost in your last year and all of that.” 

Gyuvin had almost stepped out of the back door when he looked over his shoulder and smiled, making a gesture with his hand where he repeatedly pinched his fingers together and opened his palm again — an inside joke he only shared with Hanbin. The last thing he heard before leaving the restaurant was a giggle behind him that starkly resembled the noise of a boiling teapot.

The slamming of the door swallowed up all of the noise of people and the kitchen and replaced it with the sound of nature starting to awaken. With the countryside came silence, but evenings were particularly eerie. No sign of human life; only the lone buzzing of the first cicadas and birds who had just returned from the south were still singing their final notes before the nightingales would take their place in a few hours‘ time. 

Gyuvin was supposed to go straight home, but afraid of being stuck in another vacuum of noise, he decided to make a quick detour. It was still light enough, and a short visit to the nearby forest tucked into the outskirts of the village would not cost him too much time. Without letting his mind wander into what-if’s and future scoldings, he decided to take the path along the rice fields instead of turning right up the road to his house.

The deafening silence left his hearing muffled after the loud ambience of the restaurant. He took a deep breath. The oil of deep-fried food and the smell of wet grass mixed into a truly nostalgic scent of summers full of barbecues with his best friends and family. It would still take a few months before such memories could be made again. For the last time. 

He still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that he was anticipating the summer holidays for the last time before he would do whatever his future entailed after he finished school. Probably university. It was the right thing to do. It’s what his parents expect. It’s what everybody expects, but Gyuvin didn’t know if he wanted to do what everybody expected. It was probably better to do something than to do nothing, he thought. And because he hadn’t come up with a plan b, he would probably end up in university anyway. But for that to happen, he had to pass all of his exams, not just his finals but also all the ones this semester. 

The headache returned now from his own voices in his head rather than the yelling of customers, crying babies, and nagging co-workers. Gyuvin took another breath, hoping that inhaling the fresh air would blow straight through his brain, taking away all of his clouded worry. 

Yesterday’s rain had left its traces, only noticeable when the wind would blow through the leaves of the trees, carrying the last hidden drops with it. The scent and the little droplets of water on Gyuvin’s skin grounded him in a way only nature could. 

It had always been like that. No matter what was going on in his head, if his parents had fought, the teacher had called reprimanding him again for being the class clown, or when he didn’t have enough money to buy his favourite Pokemon, as soon as he entered the shade of the quiet trees, he forgot everything. Every problem, how little or big it may be, evaporated into thin air as soon as he was alone, only accompanied by the occasional forest creature or insect. 

Though he didn’t wander around aimlessly, for he was on his way to the most secret and sacred place on earth. A little lake somewhere in the woods. It wasn’t on any map. 

He had discovered it when he was playing hide and seek with his brother when he was eight. He had been quite smaller at the time and was able to see the sparkling water below the trees; no adult was able to. But now, even though he had grown into a much taller, almost-adult, he was still able to locate the lake; he would always find it. After he had made this precious discovery, he came back multiple times, map and pencil in hand, to try and find where it should be on the map. It took him a couple of weeks, for he was just an eight-year-old boy and all the trees looked the same back then. 

Now he no longer needed the map. His feet took him easily where he wanted to be, even if his head was full of other thoughts. That’s why he didn’t even notice he already had arrived until he the sparkles of sunshine reflecting in the water peaked through the lush shrubbery. Only after seeing the lake did his other senses catch up, and he was able to smell the musty scent of still water in the woods. It smelled like childhood and comforted him instantly, wrapping him up in the feeling of nostalgia. Brushing away the branches, too grown to go under the trees, Gyuvin made his way to the shore.

The small lake stretched out in front of him; only parts of the calm water surface were illuminated by the sunshine leaking through the foliage of the trees. 

One breath and the wet mossy air streamed through Gyuvin’s mind and took all of his twisted dark thoughts with it. 

One breath and he wasn’t thinking of anything. 

One breath and— 

The mirror-like wet blue suddenly cracked into a million pieces when something white broke through it. Inch by inch a head was emerging, the white strands of hair clinging to a pale white face still only half visible. The sun turned the white strands of hair into a halo almost too blinding to look at, but Gyuvin could do anything but turn away. 

His eyes stared into the dark glittering eyes of the water creature. 

Dark, long eyelashes were still dripping with water, but that didn't seem to be a problem as Gyuvin's gaze was fixedly returned. 

He stood on the shore, as if his feet had grown roots, watching as the figure slowly emerged out of the water. It was hard to tell where the lake ended and the person began. Drops of water ran down from the ends of his hair, flowing down the striking face, where they absorbed into a white shirt. The fabric clung tightly to the slender body, and Gyuvin was uncomfortably aware of how it revealed the same immaculate skin on his torso. 

When he found his way back to the human's eyes, he realised it was a boy. A human. But he looked like he was not from this world. Like an angel, he waded towards him step by step against the strong current. 

Gyuvin realised too late what the boy's goal was and stumbled back a few steps to get out of the path. Their eyes were almost at the same level, and Gyuvin caught a few drops of water as the boy came closer and closer to him. Slowly, panic rose in him. What did this water angel boy want from him? Who was he? What...? 

They were now a few steps away from the lake when the boy's dark irises suddenly turned towards the sky before disappeared behind his eyelids, and he fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Gyuvin froze and held his breath as his gaze fell on the unmoving silhouette on the ground. 

The wet hair stuck to the boy's angelic face, and Gyuvin felt the need to brush it aside. But he didn't move an inch. 

With every breath, his gaze travelled further over the fallen body. Over the white blouse that stuck to his skin and over the black fabric of his pants, clinging to every muscle and slope of his legs. The hem had ridden up, exposing his bare feet. No socks, no shoes. 

Gyuvin's head was plunged into thoughts and questions that were even more impossible to answer than usual. Had he somehow fallen asleep, and was dreaming all of this? 

There was no explanation for what he was currently looking at. At least not a logical one. A beautiful boy, probably around his age, wearing a blouse and trousers but no shoes, emerging from a lake that had been completely calm before. Where had he come from? How long had he been underwater? How had the surface of the water been so pristine when someone was trapped underneath it? The clothes looked expensive. Too opulent for the time and place. The occasional deer or fox definitely didn’t care for the white satin ruffles. Gyuvin however couldn’t take his eyes off of the blouse that exposed too much skin and even through the fabric that had become almost transparent from the water. Only now he noticed some sort of pattern shimmering through on the boy’s left ribcage. Whatever it was threatened to escape from underneath the shirt.

Without thinking, Gyuvin lowered his hand to touch the dark mystery. The skin felt cold and waxy but the tar-black lines didn’t budge. It was a tattoo. A large one at that. He swallowed down his curiosity to expose the hidden art and pulled the hem of the shirt down to cover the bare waist. The fabric immediately clung to his fingers, and it was difficult to slide the heavy wet fabric over skin. He focused on only touching fabric and not skin. When he pulled his hand back, he froze. Water was not the only thing dripping from his fingers. It had mixed with something red and viscous and was slowly running down his trembling index finger.

All questions evaporated, and a deathly silence spread through Gyuvin's mind. He completely forgot to breathe as he watched the blood drip. Dazed by the trance of the drops, he remained crouched next to the fallen body. The paralysing fear was too great to give way to the thoughts knocking at his head. 

The only time Gyuvin had ever seen blood was when he had to prepare meat at the restaurant, and it was animal blood. 

The only time he had seen human blood was when he had played tag with his little brother in the living room. Six-year-old Yujin, water bottle in hand, was running around on his socks and away from his big brother, who was pretending to be a zombie. But as Yujin turned the corner of the table, he slipped and fell hard on the floor. What made this incident so horrible was the glass bottle Yujin still had been holding. Gyuvin could still see his little fingers clutching the shards and how he realised the sharp pain far too late. 

His brother still had a scar on his thumb. 

But that was almost four years ago now. 

The current sight of blood on his own hand felt very different from seeing blood from other people or animals. But it wasn't Gyuvin's blood at all. 

All at once, the air returned to his lungs, and he fell to his knees. Carefully, he tried turning the lying body towards him to see where the blood was coming from. 

His breath caught when he saw the discoloured fabric of the white shirt, beginning near the sleeves and stretching across the entire back. The contrast was so stark and grotesque that Gyuvin felt dizzy and had to stop for a moment to swallow his rising bile. 

There was so much blood. 

Far too much. And it seemed as if the fibres of the still white rest of the shirt were slowly turning red like veins and pulling the blood with them. 

Gyuvin didn't know what he was staring at or where the blood was coming from, but he knew he had to do something. 

He slowly turned the boy back onto his side, careful not to let the bloody back soak up the muddy earth underneath them. Frantically, he started searching for his phone he had somewhere on him. It was impossible not to dirty his own clothes with blood when he pulled out his mobile phone, but apart from acknowledging the ruby stains, he didn't give it a second thought. 

The screen turned on, revealing the adorable face of a much younger Yujin smiling back at him for just an instant before his bloodied fingers unlocked his phone to type in the number of an ambulance. His fingers paused briefly over the glowing numbers, trying to remember what the sequence of numbers was again. By now, he should have them memorised. He had heard and seen them a million times. The last time was just two weeks ago when he got his mini-job at the restaurant. Even his mum had told him a thousand times after the fiasco with his little brother and the glass bottle. She had even written them on a piece of paper and stuck the note on the fridge. 

But the numbers swam around in front of Gyuvin's eyes like in an aquarium. He was sure they were the numbers '1' and '9', but the order danced around in his brain like drunken elephants. It was two ones! But was it after the nine, or before?

Gyuvin could feel that time was slowly robbing him of the opportunity to contemplate long enough, so he started tapping aimlessly: 119. Trembling, he put the phone to his ear and listened expectantly to the beeping. 

After the twelfth beep, he glanced at the top right-hand corner of the screen, and his premonition was confirmed. No network. He should have guessed that, but he had never really noticed it before. After all, that was why he went into the forest: to think, or to have absolutely no thoughts at all, and without being disturbed by anyone, whether in person or by the metallic voice in his ear. But now Gyuvin wanted nothing more than to be part of the rest of the world again. 

He ran his hand through his hair and began to massage his head in the hope of stimulating his synapses and find a solution. His gaze wandered back to the boy's face, which was looking more and more like a marble statue with every passing moment. Even the lips gradually lost their purple-blue hue and came frighteningly close to the white streaks of hair framing his face. Gyuvin didn't know how much time he had left. More precisely, how much time the boy had left. 

The red veins of fabric were now making their way down his side weaving across the mysterious tattoo. Like small snakes, they twisted beneath the arms and over the shoulders of the still damp white shirt, distorting the angelic boy into something grotesque. If he didn't bleed to death, he would die of cold. For even though it was a warm spring day, in the shade of the trees and encased in a layer of cold lake water, it was clear that if the wearer was still conscious, he would be shivering like mad. That would be the natural reaction to keep the body warm, but he couldn't do that because he wasn't conscious. 

Gyuvin stretched out his hand again, but this time with the intention of touching skin instead of just the fabric. He gingerly placed his hand on the boy's pale, waxy skin, which lay limp on the ground. As expected, it was freezing cold. Too cold. Gyuvin let it linger for a moment to warm it up a little. But it wasn’t enough. Without hesitation, he reached out his left hand and gently wrapped it around the upper body as he reached under the sleeping boy's legs with his other hand. Holding his breath, he lifted the motionless body onto his lap with a jerk. He immediately felt like he had just taken a swim in the lake himself. The water that had clung to the fabric of the boy immediately seeped into the folds of Gyuvin's clothes. He was hyperaware that his left arm and hand were not just wet from the water. 

He sat there for a moment, the body of a slowly breathing boy in his lap who looked like he was not of this world. 

Gyuvin remembered a picture in the church he had visited every Sunday as a child. It was a depiction of Mary holding a bleeding Christ in her arms. It was after the crossing, and her son was far too big to offer him the security he had received as a child. Gyuvin had not liked the picture. And yet he was aware of the astonishing similarity to his current situation. 

The boy's long arms and legs hung limply on the floor, for although Gyuvin had grown very tall, he was still too small to offer any security. 

As he held the boy, a stupid idea started to form. He didn't know if he was strong enough. Even though he was athletic, it was only ever endurance sports like soccer that he did. He hadn't built up any muscles, especially in his arms. But he had no other choice. The boy didn't look particularly heavy. Gyuvin's legs had not yet succumbed to numbness from the burden they carried, which was surprising, because they usually had an affinity to loose their strength. 

He dug his hand deeper into the wet sleeves of the shirt and pulled the boy's knees close to his own body. With a jerk, Gyuvin straightened his left leg and lifted the motionless torso. The boy's head immediately tipped backwards, prompting Gyuvin to quickly pull the body closer and gently lean the boy's head against his chest. 

Without wasting much time staring at the flawless face, he lifted the rest of the body and within a few seconds found himself standing on his two feet with the still dripping body of an unknown boy in his arms. 

Despite his slender build, it was quite a bit of weight that Gyuvin now had to carry.

He turned around carefully, away from the lake towards the trees, and this movement alone almost knocked the breath out of his lungs. 

Without giving much thought to how impossible it was for him to carry another full-grown person across the whole forest, he put one foot in front of the other. 

Upon reaching the cluster of trees encircling the lake, he had no choice but to push straight through the thicket, as manoeuvring beneath it was not possible with the extra weight of the motionless body. 

The branches and leaves brushed against his cheeks and left a stinging pain in their wake. He quickly pulled the boy even closer, trying to shield his head from further injury. 

Slowly, step by step, Gyuvin made his way through the forest as fast as he could. Orientation was no problem for him after years of finding his way to the lake without a map. It was still bright enough that even the shadows of the trees provided sufficient light. However, the challenge was not so much about finding the way and more about the inner chaos of Gyuvin's mind. What was the right thing to do now? Firstly, get out of the forest. Secondly, call an ambulance. Thirdly, praying that the boy in his arms would wake up again. 

Gyuvin's gaze briefly fell on his still-closed eyes. He had already forgotten what they had looked like open; they had vanished behind his eyelids so quickly. Gyuvin found himself once more by the lake, hearing the water swirl around the angelic boy's legs. And again Gyuvin was once again far too aware of how his left arm, clutching around the boy's back, was getting wetter and wetter by the second. He knew that the water had long since stopped soaking into his clothes. 

The sudden warmth on his shoulders made him look up, and Gyuvin looked into the last rays of sunlight of the day. No treetops in sight. They had made it through the woods.

He dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain bolting through his legs, too busy gently placing the boy on the floor and half in his lap. With one arm still keeping the upper body upright, Gyuvin fished his mobile phone out of his pocket, and when the screen lit up, he was relieved to see the three bars smiling back at him. He quickly swiped across the screen and tapped the number he had dialled a few minutes ago again. 

Beep, beep, beep... "911, what's your emergency?" 

All the air left Gyuvin with relief, and he had to take another deep breath before he was able to describe his situation to the assistant on the phone as quickly as possible.

"OK, we'll be there in 15 minutes. Until then, please stay where you are and don't move the patient." 

"Okay," Gyuvin's grip tightened even more, and the phone call was over. He let his hand and phone slide into the grass, and his gaze wandered along the limp body again before he looked at the frozen face. 

He carefully wiped the white strands away from the long dark eyelashes, but his hand remained behind the boy’s ear. Beneath the piercings on his left ear, letters snaked down his neck. Black ink on pale skin. Gyuvin deciphered the foreign word, which turned out to be even more challenging due to the cursive font. 

'Rolemodel', he realised with satisfaction after a moment. He had always been very good at English. 

Without realising it, his thumb began to carefully stroke the letters, but the ink didn't smudge a bit. It was a little unusual to have tattoos at such a young age, especially in a place where everyone would see it or in such size as the one on his ribs. But the boy in his lap didn't really seem to fit into the small village in general. Gyuvin wondered why he had never seen him before. It was strange that he hadn't even heard rumours. White hair, piercings and tattoos seemed to be a very interesting topic of conversation for the old women in the village, and Gyuvin always heard everything, thanks to his mother. 

"Who are you?" 

He hadn't even realised that he said it out loud until it was already too late.

"Did you save me?" 

At first Gyuvin thought he had spoken again without realising it, but this voice was not his. It was soft and quiet. 

His gaze immediately turned from the black letters to the even darker eyes that were now looking straight at him. They were still half hidden under his eyelids, as if they were still too heavy. Gyuvin didn't move; he just stared back. 

"Did you save me?" the boy repeated, now even quieter than before, but Gyuvin saw his lips move. 

Funny how now when Gyuvin was trying to reply, his own mouth didn't move one bit, so he just slightly nodded while keeping his eyes fixed on the other's. 

The boy attempted to speak once more, yet this time his strength seemed to fail him, and all that Gyuvin could hear was an unintelligible whisper. 

Gyuvin immediately leant forward and put his ear close to the stranger's mouth. 

For the fourth and last time, the boy spoke, almost impossible to hear if Gyuvin wasn't so close. "Why?" 

It sounded desperate? Defeated? Confused? 

It was a question Gyuvin lacked an answer for. He hadn’t even considered the option of not helping. It didn't matter who the person was, but Gyuvin knew what kind of person he was. He was someone that saved people. He always did. It's what he was born to do. His mother always said how he and Yujin saved her life. It gave her something to live for even after her father left. After Yujin had his accident with the glass bottle, Gyuvin took a first aid class because he never wanted to feel so helpless again. 

What the class didn't teach him, however, was how to save a 6-foot sea angel who was bleeding profusely. And again, he was far too aware of how wet his left arm was getting by the minute. He was too afraid to see how much of it was really blood or water, so he preferred to look at the stranger's face. 

The tips of their noses brushed briefly as he turned his head. The eyes that had been looking at him a few seconds ago were now closed again behind long lashes, and it seemed as if the boy had never woken up in the first place. Perhaps Gyuvin really had just imagined everything. 

He pressed his thumb, still hovering over the inked letters, into the waxy skin to check for a pulse. His eyebrows drew a little closer together the longer he searched until they finally relaxed when he felt a slow but steady bumping of veins. 

His shoulders slumped a little, and he relaxed all the muscles he didn't need to support the body. 

Slowly, his thumb began to stroke the pulse again to make sure it didn't stop. 

He would never forgive himself if he was the last person to feel this pulse. 

“Don’t worry. Everything will be okay now”, was all he said before the silence consumed him and he waited for the ambulance to arrive.

  ‿̩͙‿੭　∔⠀ৎ‿̩͙‿ 

Gyuvin had never travelled in an ambulance before, and he still felt sick even though he had been back on solid ground for over an hour. By now the sun had gone down, and the fluorescent lights were not helping to calm his stomach. The strong odour of disinfectant was the only thing that didn't make him keel over. But that wasn't the reason why he was sitting on a plastic chair in a hospital corridor. 

His reason was lying in the hospital bed right in front of him. He was looking at a back covered in bandages. The blood had already started to seep through the stitches again, making itself visible in ugly patches of red on white. The only reassuring thing about this grotesque view was the regular rising and falling of the chest underneath it. Even the annoying beeping of the monitor, which would normally have driven Gyuvin insane, was now partly responsible for his regular breathing. 

The boy in front of him had not woken up since his brief moment of consciousness in the forest. But the paramedics had assured Gyuvin that it was just exhaustion and that he would be fine. He was kept in the dark about everything else, but that was to be expected. He didn't even know the boy's name. The only reason he was sitting next to him was because he was still occupying a bed in the emergency ward, which was accessible to almost everyone. 

It had already become dark, and the lights in the hospital rooms were slowly dimming down. But Gyuvin couldn't leave. He would probably get in trouble from his mum if he came home so late because there was school the next day, but he could cope with that. He could use his work as an excuse. Hanbin would definitely vouch for him. But he couldn't just leave until the boy was awake again. 

What if the doctors were wrong and he was suddenly unable to speak when he woke up? Or even worse: what if the boy never woke up? 

That's why Gyuvin couldn't leave, because even if he left the sleeping boy, he himself would never get any sleep that night anyway. 

His mind returned to the black eyes of the boy. What if he never saw them again? He bit his lower lip, lost in thought, and before he almost drew blood, he stood up from his squeaky chair. 

For a brief moment he just stood there, partly because he was dizzy from sitting for so long and partly because he was unsure. His curiosity won out, however, and he moved slowly around the bed until he stood in front of the still sleeping boy. 

The colour had thankfully returned to the marble face, but it was still a few shades away from healthy.

He looked so peaceful when he slept. His white hair was now drying in clumps, making him look completely different in the way it framed his face. Gyuvin hadn't even noticed the stark contrast of his dark, sharp eyebrows; he had been so captivated by his eyes. But now, as they were still hidden behind heavy lids, Gyuvin realised something he hadn't noticed before. His gaze travelled from the twitching eyelashes along the prominent nose to the full lips. 

“Shen Quan Rui!”

Gyuvin flinched and took a step back. Wide-eyed, he turned into the direction of the loud voice and found a figure moving rapidly towards him. 

The long black hair fluttered in contrast to the almost petrifying fabric of the woman's clothes. The clacking of her shoes grew louder and louder until they stopped right in front of him. 

Still frozen, Gyuvin gazed into the strange woman's eyes. Eyes as dark as he had only seen them once before. But instead of returning his stare, the woman had her eyes set on the bed next to them.

Gyuvin’s gaze followed hers to see, only to look into the carbon-copy of the glistening darkness. 

The boy had woken up. 

But he didn't look back. Instead, only his head was facing the woman. Yet, just as he avoided meeting Gyuvin’s eyes, he also ignored the woman’s stare. The heart rate monitor on his index finger suddenly seemed very interesting and he began to fiddle with it. There was dried blood under his fingernails and on the edges of his nail bed.

The woman started talking loudly in a language Gyuvin didn't understand. It sounded like some version of Mandarin. 

In the meantime, the boy had begun to pick the dried blood from under his nails. 

Gyuvin dared a quick glance back at the stranger's face only to see that his eyes were half hidden. His gaze was lowered that they were almost invisible. From what could be seen, they almost seemed cloudy, as if he was very far away and not exactly lying on a hospital bed a few inches away from Gyuvin. 

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. His head first moved in the direction from which it had come before he finally turned his gaze away from the boy and looked into the other set of dark eyes, which were so similar to the boy's but also so different. The woman's smooth face reminded him of the boy’s, and if the eyes hadn't already given it away, he was now convinced that the boy's mother was standing right in front of him. Her long black hair flowed calmly over her shoulders, where a minute ago it had waved in the air like a storm surge. 

Her perfect mouth opened, and she spoke with a slight accent, ‘You must be the boy who found Quan Rui.’ 

Quan Rui. 

So that was the boy's name. 

Gyuvin tried to get the name past his lips, and so he just nodded in agreement. He looked again briefly at the boy — Quan Rui — who was still very interested in the hospital technology. 

“I'm sorry that my son has caused you so much trouble. I apologise ardently.”

Eyebrows raised, mouth half open. Gyuvin looked at the woman's face for a moment, speechless. Trouble? Apologise? Why was she apologising? Her child was in a hospital, and she was apologising for it? 

“Oh no, no. It really wasn't a problem. Absolutely not. I'm happy to help.” 

“Sorry again anyway.” The woman turned briefly to Quan Rui and gave him a significant look. But since he still didn't look up and didn't get the hint, she patted him on the shoulder, far too aggressively in Gyuvin's opinion. That seemed to get her son's attention and she started telling him something without any words, only using her eyes.

And that’s when Gyuvin heard the boy's voice for the second time. 

“Sorry.” 

Apparently the woman mistook Gyuvin's silence for annoyance, because she started talking loudly and excitedly to her son in the foreign language again. It bothered Gyuvin that he couldn't understand what she was saying. He didn't know what to do. 

“I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble. It will never happen again.” The voice was still soft as butter and quiet as a winter's day at his lake, but he had heard it. 

“You really don't need to apologise,” Gyuvin reiterated, and seeing the woman's knitted eyebrows still focused on the boy, he added, “Thank you.” 

Apparently that was all the woman wanted to hear. She turned to Gyuvin one last time, gave him a forced smile, and added, “We're already late. You should go. Your parents must be worried.” 

With the last sentence, Gyuvin seemed to think he had heard the boy scoff, but perhaps he had only imagined it. When he looked at him again, his face had returned to that of a marble statue. Without any traces of emotion. Angelic. 

The strange mumbling started again in the background, but Gyuvin hadn't moved yet. As long as the boy was distracted by his mother, Gyuvin didn't feel strange staring at him like that. 

Quan Rui was no longer lying on his side but had turned completely onto his back, facing his mother. The doctor’s instructions echoes in Gyuvin’s mind. Laying on his back was the last thing he should do. It would make the healing process of the wounds much more difficult. Whatever these wounds were that had spilled so much blood. But Gyuvin didn't dare say anything, especially as he sensed that he was not welcomed here anymore. And when he saw Quan Rui’s emotionless expression again, it was reassurance enough that he was no longer needed. 

He took a slow step backwards, gave the two figures a quick glance, and when they didn't seem to notice his attempt to leave, his second foot began to move as well. He backed away from the bed, making his way around it without looking away. 

Would he ever see the boy — Quanrui was his name — again? He had so many questions. Curiosity, apart from his absolute willingness to help, was another of Gyuvin's vices. 

It seemed that the mother's voice was getting louder with every step Gyuvin took away from them. His gaze fell one last time on the plastic chair next to the bed that had held him up for the past hours. 

At that moment, the curtain was pulled forward. An attempt at privacy and to shield the boy from strange looks, like Gyuvin’s. But in his standing position he could still peak behind the curtain. He couldn’t see everything. The curtain did partly do its job. All he could catch a glimpse of was the hospital blanket and the blood-encrusted hands clutching the fabric, arms covered by the hospital gown and a lowered head hidden by a white cloud of hair.

A strand of hair fell to the side, revealing a dark, persistent eye staring at Gyuvin. 

It was very brief. 

By the time Gyuvin blinked, the boy had already lowered his gaze again. For a short moment, Gyuvin just stood there. Right in front of the door from the emergency room to the corridor and looked at the boy who had fallen into his life just a few hours ago. 

It was strange to see him looking so weak now. Even when he had to carry him in his arms through the forest, he looked more majestic, more other-worldly. Now he seemed so much smaller, much more human, as he lay inside of the hospital walls. But Gyuvin couldn't erase the image of an angel wading out of the water, even as the strange words faded away and he left the hospital.

Chapter Text

The sudden flood almost scared the fish to death as the aquarium was filled to the brim, letting them roam their home freely again. Their newly cleaned home at that. They should be grateful, Gyuvin thought. He had spent the last hour testing the water quality, removing the algae, trimming the overgrown foliage, and cleaning the filter. When Gyuvin had applied for this job, he didn’t think he would become a father of 23 fish. But here he was on a Saturday morning ten minutes before the restaurant opened and his shift started, playing God by granting these sea creatures an extension of their lives. The aquarium was now full of water again, and so Gyuvin started to scrub the glass walls that were grimy and sticky from little kids’ hands, annoying the little fish. Apparently, cleaning could serve as a form of therapy: to release stress. But for Gyuvin, it did quite the opposite. It gave him time to think. And staring at water for this long made him think of other bodies of water, like the sea, lakes, or ponds – his pond, and a certain someone that he found in said pond. It had almost been a week since he met the boy. Well, he wasn’t sure if dragging someone’s unconscious body to a hospital and then literally not talking to each other at all could be classified as ‘meeting someone’, but the lines were blurry, in Gyuvin’s opinion. He had gone to the hospital the next day to see how the boy was doing, but the staff obviously didn’t give him any information about where he was located. And after walking through a million corridors and bumping into nurses and confused patients, he had given up and gone home. That day was the first and last time Gyuvin had ever seen the boy. Apparently he wasn’t from around here because he seemed around Gyuvin’s age, and because of that, they should have met somewhere in this small town. But even though their encounter — if you will call it that — was short, the boy had clawed his way into the inner workings of Gyuvin’s brain, and no matter how much he tried to drag him out again, the claws just dug deeper. Gyuvin had already created a whole life about the mystery that was called Quan Rui. But no matter how creative his inventions were, they could never satisfy his cravings of knowing more, knowing him. Like an itch that he couldn’t scratch.

“Maybe you should become our cleaning lady instead of serving food.”

Gyuvin cringed in surprise when he heard Hanbin’s voice behind him. He immediately relaxed his shoulders again and turned around to look into dimple-framed eyes smiling mischievously back at him.

“Why so jumpy?” The older one added. “Having inappropriate thoughts at work?”

Gyuvin felt his face grow hot because even though that was not the case, he somehow felt like a kid getting caught stealing cookies in the middle of the night. His lack of words and probably blushed cheeks served as an answer enough.

“Oh, you are? Well then, I’m sorry to interrupt your fantasies, but the restaurant is opening in—” Hanbin took a look at his wristwatch. “Three minutes, and we still have towers of dirty dishes in the kitchen that are desperate to be cleaned.”

“And I’m guessing that’s my job.” Gyuvin’s words had magically come back to him.

“I mean, you’re already cleaning, and I think if you keep scrubbing the glass, the fishes will swim through it because it’s so crystal clear. So really, you’re doing them a favour by washing the dishes.”

“Fascinating how your mind is working,” the younger boy replied, already packing up all of the cleaning supplies in the big blue bucket on the floor. He heard a sing-songy “Thank youuuu” behind him while heading first to the cleaning closet to get rid of the supplies and then to the kitchen.

When his hands were red and wrinkly like an eighty-year-old lady's, Gyuvin finally put the last dirty plate into the water, which, after a few scrubs and pressure-washing, emerged pearly white.

Finally being able to do the job he was actually hired for, Gyuvin exchanged the wet kitchen apron for the black waiter apron and tied it at the waist. He quickly added pen and paper and shoved the door open with his shoulder. The noise of sizzling oil and stressed-out cooks and the scratching of metal on porcelain was immediately cut off and replaced by the muffled chatter of guests that had arrived while Gyuvin had kitchen duty. It was the weekend, meaning the restaurant was quite full. Other waiters were carrying around big trays with drinks filled to the brim and plates and bowls filled with the delicious taste of home-cooked food. While he was surveying the room, he noticed a table in the corner that was empty but still had not been cleaned yet, with dirty tableware and used tissues scattered on the tablecloth. Happy to have found something to do, Gyuvin took a few steps towards his new point on his mental to-do list when a familiar shade of white caught his attention near the fish tank. Even though he was only able to see the person from the back, there was no doubt that this was the boy from the pond. No one else dared to bleach their hair this much in his little town in the countryside. Before his confusion could darken into overthinking, Gyuvin made a straight beeline for that familiar person. However, as soon as he stopped one step away from the boy, he realised that he had no clue what he was doing. Did the boy even remember who he was? Maybe he had a concussion or trauma from the incident and forgot everything. Gyuvin did have a very forgettable face, or that’s what his dad had always told him. And what if the boy remembered him? Then what? Gyuvin had a job to do. Oh yeah, he had a job! He was so stupid. He was a waiter, so it was literally his job to go up to guests and talk to them. Smiling to himself for his grandiose idea, Gyuvin took one step forward, towering over the blonde head. He was about to open his mouth and say something along the lines of ´Well hello there, sir. What fine dining would thee request on this fine spring day?´ when his gaze fell on the lap of Quan Rui. The boy had his chair turned away from the table, so he was facing the fish tank and was quickly looking between the many fish and the sketchbook on his legs. He was hunched over, partially to be able to draw and partially to cover as much of his hobby as possible. The pages were covered in many colours of squiggly lines crisscrossing and layering, making the artwork a confusing but beautiful mess. It took a while for Gyuvin to realise that the boy was in the middle of drawing one of the many orange fish that were swimming their rounds in the tank.

“Woah”, Gyuvin breathed out, eloquent as ever. Startled, Quan Rui winced, dropping his pencils and immediately shutting his sketchbook before turning his face to stare at the other boy. The same big brown eyes were now staring at Gyuvin like they had three days ago, and he could swear he heard the wind in the trees and the dropping of water again.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one being held captive in time, as those same eyes were now squinting at him in scrutiny. “You.”

So he did remember Gyuvin. Was that a good or a bad thing? Who knew? “Yeah, me.” Gyuvin put on his best customer smile, bright enough to challenge the sun. “You remember me?”

Quan Rui hummed in agreement before bending down and starting to gather up the fallen art utensils. It took only a second before he was joined on the floor by two helping hands clumsily picking up the pens that had rolled underneath the table. And because Gyuvin was Gyuvin and still was not used to the dimensions of his body, even two years after his 20 cm growth spurt, he hit his head before resurfacing from underneath the table. Rubbing his head like an idiot with one hand while his other one clutched the pencils, a full smile on display again. Usually, this got him one in return, but the face opposite to his was set in stone, only looking expectantly at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Ah, here,” he offered the pens.

“Thanks.” The slender fingers he had clutched a few days back now were much warmer — more alive — as they brushed his own hand. The sudden contact of skin made Gyuvin almost drop his loot again, but thankfully they had already been taken and were safely stashed away in a metal pencil case.

“You can draw really well,” he awkwardly tried to start a conversation, but the figure in front of him wasn’t very talkative and had returned to the hunched-over position, this time clutching a sketchbook and pencil case in his arms, his eyes fixed somewhere in front of him.

“Do you like fish?” He hesitantly tried again. “I mean the fish in the tank, not as in do you like eating fish? But if you do, we also have them on the menu. Oh my god, not these exact ones. We don’t actually keep them here to cook them. That would be cannibalism. No wait, voyeurism? Something like that. They’re just here on display, is what I want to say. But that doesn’t make a difference, right? They’re still being watched, and the kids – oh my god, the kids with their grimy hands always disturb them, banging against the glass. That takes ages to clean. I just cleaned the tank this morning. I’m like really good at it, and if the fish could talk, they would thank me because, not to toot my own horn, but I’m a really good fish father, or like an uncle-in-law? I don’t own this restaurant. Okay, obviously, duh, I’m seventeen. I only work here and—”

“Do you?”

The sudden quiet voice made Gyuvin stutter and halt his absolute train crash of an attempt at conversation. “Huh?”

“Do you actually work here?” the boy repeated, and Gyuvin could swear there was a trace of mockery in his voice.

“Uhh, yeah.” He very elegantly pointed his fingers to his apron.

“Working usually implies doing your job, and you’re currently flirting with me, and as far as I’m concerned, that is not on the list of requirements for being a waiter.”

When he had imagined their first conversation, Gyuvin didn’t have in mind that the boy from the lake would utterly destroy his dignity, but whatever suited him. His cheeks felt warm once again and were probably blushing bright red. Great. “I am NOT flirting.”

“Sure.”

“I am not! There is literally no way I could flirt less. I am so negatively not flirting at all. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Something reminiscent of a smile flickered over the face of the blond boy, but it was gone before Gyuvin could make a mental screenshot of it.

“Welcome to The Lotus Fountain. Here is your menu. Today’s special is salt and pepper fish — not the one in the aquarium. Are you ready to order?”

The expression on the other boy’s face was too funny not to laugh, so Gyuvin pressed his lips hard together, repressing any sound escaping because he was not risking destroying his professional demeanour.

“What are you doing?” Amusement lingered between the fine, statuesque features.

“Doing my job,” Gyuvin proudly admitted, waiting for his customer’s order.

“Mmh.” Quan Rui finally took the menu offered by the human embodiment of a puppy in front of him, quickly scanning over his options before handing it back again. “A strawberry lemonade, please — are you laughing?”

Gyuvin’s daily allotted time for being serious was done, and he was no longer able to hold back his laugh. He didn’t even know why he was laughing. Sure, it was kind of cute that this absolute stoic artwork of a human ordered a strawberry lemonade, but it wasn’t really enough to get a giggle out of him. So what was the reason? Who knows? But he had a job to do, so he tried really hard to keep his expressions under control, gritting out between held-back amusement, “Anything to eat?”

“You’re really trying to be professional, aren’t you?” Quan Rui sighed before adding, “That is all, thank you.”

“Okay, strawberry lemonade coming right up.” Gyuvin saluted with two fingers, apparently turning into his current persona of a waiter in a military camp before turning around and heading towards the kitchen for some much-needed hiding.

He didn’t waste time on asking one of the busy chefs to take on the new order and started taking out the ingredients out of the refrigerator himself. While assembling the drink on autopilot, he couldn’t stop thinking about the awkward reunion. Instead of being a concerned and nice human being and asking how the boy was after his stay at the hospital, Gyuvin had made a fool out of himself. Typical. But what was done was done, so he tried to come up with better questions while squeezing half a lemon into the pink sugary drink in front of him. He topped it off with some fresh mint and stuck a red and white striped straw between the ice cubes before letting out a big sigh and turning to leave the kitchen once again.

It was stupid, but the nervousness in his stomach settled again when he saw that Quan Rui was still seated next to the fish tank, hypnotised by the swimming water friends. He hadn’t left. So he still had a chance to turn this shitshow around. Posture straight, tray balanced in both of his hands, he made his way towards his second chance. It seemed way longer than a few seconds before he reached his destination and caught the blond’s reaction with a clearing of his throat.

“Your order.”

“Thank you.”

Both of them just stared at each other, waiting for the other to start his drink and the other to go back to his duties as a waiter. Neither thing happened. Gyuvin thought his second chance at conversation had so far been relatively smooth, even if only four words had been exchanged. He took that as the perfect invitation to carry on: “So… your name is Quan Rui, right?”

The boy in question raised his eyebrows in obvious criticism at the failed pronunciation of his name. Gyuvin chided himself for picking Japanese and not Chinese as his second foreign language in school. But he had already struggled enough with that and English, so adding a third one would have been academic suicide, not that there was anything salvageable regarding his grades anyway. You never thought you would really need anything you learnt in school until you did, and then you felt really stupid, like right now.

“I pronounced it wrong, didn't I?” He scratched at the side of his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. No one calls me by that name anyway.”

That halted Gyuvin in his movement. “What do you mean? I heard your mother in the hospital.”

At the word ‘mother’, Quan Rui, or apparently not Quan Rui, winced and looked away. Gyuvin made a mental note to work on his social skills because he apparently sucked at it. How was he able to never say the right thing? All he wanted to be was nice and kind, and all he did was make others awkward and accidentally hurt. He was a bad excuse for a human and definitely for a waiter. All he could hope was that he didn’t make the boy in front of him cry, or he would be fired or, worse, hurt his feelings. But the boy didn’t look like he was crying. His eyes were glistening with the normal amount of eye fluid as the luminescent water reflected in them.

“My name is Ricky,” Ricky finally said, his eyes still cast on the fish tank. “Everyone here calls me that.”

Gyuvin didn’t know what he meant with ‘here’. The neighbourhood, the countryside, this country? And besides, had Gyuvin ever seen him ‘here’? And how does one come up with the name ‘Ricky’ when the boy seemed to be Chinese? Too many questions, and Gyuvin knew none of them would be answered right now anyway, so he just nodded in understanding.

“Ricky?” He tried his first attempt at the new name and thankfully received emotionally neutral eyes in return. At least he didn’t suck at English that much. “I just wanted to ask if you’re okay? Like after all of that… and the hospital.”

The other boy had not expected Gyuvin to be so blunt and just stared back without any sign of answer or movement, or, to be honest, of any life at all.

Before Gyuvin exhausted his talent at being incapable of social interactions, he answered his question himself: “Well, you must be. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let you leave the hospital, right? And you look so much better, not that you didn’t look good back then. Well, of course you didn’t look ‘good’ because you were kind of dying, I think, but you still looked good, obviously, but now you—”

Thankfully, his second stupid rant got interrupted by the ringtone of his phone, which made his face turn an even darker shade of red as the chorus of a girl-group song filled the silence between the two boys.

Gyuvin awkwardly wrestled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, but he had to wait to end this embarrassment because the screen read ‘Yujinnie’. He took a quick look up at Ricky, who still looked like he hadn’t moved a single millimetre.

“Sorry, I have to really take this one,” Gyuvin gestured at his phone. “Enjoy your drink.”

A blink of those two dark brown eyes was all he got as an answer, so he turned towards the kitchen, through which he quickly manoeuvred before ending up in the staff room, where he finally answered the call.

“Yujinnie? Is everything okay?”

“How do you make ramen again?” The tinny voice of his little brother echoed through the phone.

A beat of confused silence passed before Gyuvin answered, “What?”

“Ramen!” The little voice repeated, obviously annoyed by the fact that he didn’t immediately receive an answer. “How do you make it?”

“Why do you want to know that right now?”

“I’m hungry! And Mama is grocery shopping. And I’m hungry,” he added in emphasis.

Gyuvin sighed before continuing the conversation, “So you want to make ramen? Did you have breakfast at least?”

The phone line was surprisingly quiet, giving enough of an answer.

“Did you ask Mom if you could? Because she probably already cooked for you.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to eat vegetables right now. So please tell me how to make ramen!” His little brother got a little louder at the end, and Gyuvin had to smile at his cute attempt at being angry. He struggled for a few seconds between granting his brother’s wish, which would probably result in a somewhat angry mother, or being a responsible older brother.

“Okay,” he gave in to his brother, “do you have the little silver pot on the stove?”

“Yeah.”

“Put like two cups of water in it, boil it — put the little cog on like the number 8… Wait, do you know the number eight?”

“Of course,” he was interrupted by frustrated indignation, “I’m in first grade! I’m not dumb.”

“Sorry, I forgot you’re the smartest boy on earth.” The sarcastic smile playing on his face. “Okay, so boil the water until it’s bubbly, and then put the ramen and all of the little packages inside the water, and then turn the heat off after around three minutes. Use the little chicken timer on the microwave. And be careful with the water! It will be super hot! Like volcano lava hot, okay?”

“Yes, yes, thank you, Hyung. Goodbye.” And the phone call was over. Gyuvin revelled for a few moments in the silence of being alone before deciding to go back to work.

When he returned to the bustling, loud restaurant, his eyes immediately searched for the table in front of the aquarium. But instead of being partially covered by a familiar face with white hair, the seat was empty. Gyuvin’s head jerked left and right, searching for the boy somewhere else in the restaurant; maybe he had left for the toilet or to get some fresh air, but no matter how hard he tried to scan every centimetre of the room, the familiar dark brown eyes were nowhere to be found. His phone flashed bright once again to check the time. He had only spoken to his brother for a few minutes. He hadn’t been gone that long. As he looked once again at the empty seat, Gyuvin noticed that the lemonade still stood in the exact same spot he had placed it. He made his way towards it, stopping in front of the half-empty drink. Beside it lay a couple of five-thousand-won notes, too much for the actual price of the sugary abomination that was a refreshment. The implication was clear as day: Gyuvin had made Ricky uncomfortable, and so he left. It was the same feeling when he was being scolded as a kid after trying to bake a cake for his mother’s birthday, only to end up burning half the kitchen down. Gyuvin had to do chores for months (baking or cooking was obviously not on the plan) to pay for the damage of his short-lived attempt at becoming a baker. He had really tried. He really did, but somehow good intentions weren’t enough when you couldn’t pull through with success. What you thought didn’t matter when your actions didn’t match. It shouldn’t feel this heavy to lose someone that you couldn’t even call a friend, but the bitter taste still persisted, even when mixed with blood by nervous chewing from teeth on lips.

“Gyuvin? Is everything okay?”

There was something moving very fast from side to side in front of Gyuvin’s face. The movement of the object fanned the warm and stuffy air of the restaurant in his face, and when his eyes were filled with so much liquid confusion that his vision just became one huge colourful blur, he finally blinked again, a few tears dropping down his cheeks before he hastily wiped them away.

“Hm?” he hummed before turning towards Hanbin, who stood next to him, one hand still waving in front of his face, the other on Gyuvin’s shoulder, trying to ground him.

“Huh? Are you crying? Did something happen? I saw you going to take a phone call. Is your family okay?” The usual concern on his friend’s face took Gyuvin out of his stupor, and he shook his head to put on his usual smile, which hopefully appeared as normal as possible. It was absolutely stupid how he was behaving and did not want to look like a child who was grumpy because it got its candy taken away.

“Ah yes, I mean no. Well, yes, Yujin called me, but everything’s fine. I just kind of zoned out. Probably the noise and everything. Also, I didn’t sleep well last night.” ´Liar´, his brain screamed, but he ignored it.

Hanbin hummed in acknowledgement, but his scrunched-up face betrayed his doubt in Gyuvin’s story. But because Hanbin was the best person ever, he didn’t pry further. “Then take a short break. I’ll handle the restaurant, okay? Maybe that’ll motivate Seungeon and Yunseo to do their job.”

Gyuvin forced a laugh at the implicated laziness of his co-workers as if he didn’t also suck at his job. “I’ll just clean this up.” He stuffed the money in the pocket of his apron before carrying the still half-full strawberry lemonade to the kitchen, where he dumped the whole sticky sweet content in the bin and put the glass in the dishwasher. After that he took Hanbin up on his offer and stepped through the backdoor where the smokers usually got their momentary relief. Thankfully, no one besides him was currently on break, and he was able to take a deep breath, the spring air filling his whole body. When he closed his eyes and breathed out again, he visually imagined how all his worries left along with all of the air out of his lungs. That’s how his mother had taught him when he was little and couldn’t sleep because his brain didn’t stop humming, thoughts swarming like bees in his head. As a kid, it helped. Now it was much harder. Especially when his brain wasn’t filled with bees but with white blood-drenched silk, water drops on starlight hair, and the darkest pair of eyes he had ever seen. He attempted his futile technique a couple of times before giving up and turning to work again. Maybe all of the stress and duties would take his mind off of things.

 ‿̩͙‿੭　∔⠀ৎ‿̩͙‿

“Kim Gyuvin!” The voice roared throughout the kitchen, the shatter of the broken plate still echoing off the walls. “What is wrong with you? That better be the last thing you ruin, or I’ll start deducting money from your salary!”

Gyuvin sighed and crouched down on the floor, where he started picking up the shards of white porcelain, carefully tucking them in a fabric napkin.

Two days had passed since Ricky left without saying a word, and Gyuvin still hadn’t been able to regain his composure. His mind was everywhere else but where it should be, and this became more than clear in his work ethic. Gyuvin would consider himself to be a sincere worker. He barely made any mistakes since starting three months ago, which resulted in his fast promotion from dishwasher to serving the food prior to its decomposed state. Now, the hard work he had put in was in vain, and he had been stuck in the kitchen for a couple of days, basically becoming a human sponge. His fingers were always pruney, even hours after his shift, due to the excessive water contact. But the cleaning was a better option than the other service craft attempts. Before completely returning to the lowest possible job in the restaurant, he was advised to help in the kitchen, as in actually helping to prepare some of the food. Gyuvin obviously didn’t do the job of an actual cook, as his cooking skills pretty much only covered any meals one could cook within ten minutes using a kettle, but he could help. Or at least that’s what he thought he could. The million Band-Aids on both of his hands from cutting a cucumber too fast or stupidly touching a hot pan proved otherwise. And that’s how he ended up with the easiest job possible: washing dishes.

Gyuvin’s gaze lingered on the million shards of a broken plate before him. Funny how he couldn’t even do that. It was ridiculous how his mind fixated on things he had no control over, but curiosity always got the best of him, and the boy from the lake was no different. There were just too many questions left unanswered, and if Gyuvin didn’t get any answers soon, he would actually go insane.

A sharp pain suddenly shot through his right index finger, travelling like lightning through his entire arm. Gyuvin just sighed as the dripping blood joined the broken porcelain on the ground.

“Gyuvin?” The sudden voice made the aforementioned boy look up into the shocked face of Hanbin. “Is that blood?”

As if he needed to confirm that first, Gyuvin looked back at his hand, which was now covered in glistening red. It looked much more dramatic than it actually was, and he felt his vision go slightly dizzy.

Thankfully, Hanbin found a clean towel fast enough and used it to cover the wound. The blood immediately bloomed through the white fabric, very reminiscent of wet white silk and blood and dirt.

Gyuvin shook his head to get the image out, as if that would work. His friend understood this as him fighting fainting, which was partially true anyway.

“Come on, get up. I’m going to patch you up in the staff room.” Gyuvin let himself be pulled up by his friend and dragged into the backrooms, his eyes never leaving the red-spotted towel. He only noticed the new surroundings when Hanbin carefully sat him down on one of the old creaky chairs they had put there so they could actually sit during their breaks.

“It won’t be long before you have any fingers left.” Hanbin sighed, worry lacing his words. He placed the first-aid box on the ground next to the chair and started getting out all the essentials.

“Gyuvin?” His voice came again. “You okay?”

Gyuvin hummed in response; his teeth were too busy gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’m going to remove the towel now, okay?”

The white and red fabric Gyuvin had fixated on for the last minute or so was drawn out of his visual frame, and the fresh cut was bared. He bit down harder on his lips. Seeing the wound again actually made him feel a little bit sick. He swallowed. It hurt like a bitch when Hanbin sprayed disinfectant before wrapping a bandaid around his finger, adding to the ever-growing collection Gyuvin currently had going on.

“Thank you.” Gyuvin still avoided looking at his friend because it was only a matter of time before he was asked why he was behaving the way he did, and he didn’t have an answer yet. At least not any that made sense to him or to anyone else.

“Gyuvin?” Hanbin cleared his throat. “Is something wrong?”

Ever since starting his job at the restaurant, Gyuvin and Hanbin had become inseparable. Even though Hanbin was technically his boss, it didn’t affect their friendship at all. It had made them become even closer than before. The two of them had always lived in the same town, but their paths had only crossed occasionally due to the three-year age difference. Gyuvin was the eldest in his family, and suddenly Hanbin had become something like an older brother to him, showing him everything he needed to know about working as a waiter. But that’s not where their relationship ended. The beginning was hard. Gyuvin had never worked before and had no clue what he was doing. Hanbin had taken the blame every time Gyuvin dropped a tray, did not clean a pot properly or forgot to lock the restaurant. He was very thankful to have someone like that, and it didn’t take long before Gyuvin broke down once after a shift because of the amount of new pressure he was under. Hanbin had just held him, stroking his back, telling him over and over again that everything was okay.

It was kind of odd to be in the same situation again after months of hard work. No wonder Hanbin questioned his behaviour.

Gyuvin contemplated way too long whether he should tell the truth — whatever that even was — or lie again.

But he didn’t even get to come to a conclusion before Hanbin answered his own question. “It’s because of the blond guy from a few days ago, isn’t it?”

Gyuvin’s head shot up, searching for something other than worry in Hanbin’s eyes, but he didn’t find anything. His own face felt hot; there was a high chance it was covered in red blotches. His ears definitely were. Was he embarrassed? But why? Because Hanbin knew him so well? Thinking about it, he did kind of feel exposed. The same weird feeling of standing at the edge of a precipice returned to his stomach.

“What about him?” Gyuvin tried his best to sound nonchalant.

“I don’t know; you tell me. Apparently it was enough to upset you.”

Gyuvin let a few moments pass before deciding to answer. “He just left. Without saying anything.”

Hanbin’s brows furrowed in confusion. “And that is a problem because…?”

Of course it sounded stupid. Why would Gyuvin be this impacted by a random customer who left without saying goodbye? At least he had paid, so there was nothing to worry about. Not if that customer had been just anybody. But Ricky wasn’t just anybody. He was a mystery. He was an enigma that Gyuvin desperately needed to solve, or he would lose his goddamn mind. It was only a matter of time before the cracks in Gyuvin’s composure, which he tried so hard to keep together, became irreparable and were no longer able to be hidden. So he chose the truth.

“I actually know him. Well, knowing him would be a little too much. I only know his name, and it’s not even his real one because I was too stupid to choose Chinese as my third language.” Hanbin looked absolutely lost, so Gyuvin paused his waterfall of random thoughts to start at the beginning. “I met him a week ago. At a lake in the woods. It’s not as weird as it sounds.” It was as weird as it sounded, even weirder at that, because he would rather keep the whole story to himself, not sure with what details Ricky would be okay with being told to other people. “He was unconscious, so I called an ambulance and drove with him to the hospital, where I waited until his mother came. She told me to go home because it was already late, so I did. He didn’t talk to me that day, and I had so many questions. And then he just showed up a few days later here in the restaurant; that obviously shocked the hell out of me. So I talked to him, butchered his name, and scared him off. I don’t know what I did wrong, and that’s been bugging me for the last few days. That’s why I’m like this.” Gyuvin lifted his hands to show off the consequences of his mental absence.

Hanbin’s face had softened with every new word Gyuvin chose to tell him, confusion now something more compassionate, something warmer. “Gyuvin, you’re not a bad person.”

Gyuvin let out an amused noise.

“Come on, you cannot truly think that.” Hanbin’s stern expression challenged him. “There are a million reasons why that boy could’ve left, and you’re not one of them. Something urgent probably came up, and he had to leave. He left money, so he wasn’t angry with you or anything, okay?”

Hanbin was right. It was a little presumptuous to think Gyuvin, out of all possible options, would be the reason for Ricky’s behaviour. Gyuvin didn’t think himself to be that important. The universe didn’t revolve around him. He nodded his head in response, smiling just enough for it to be believable.

Hanbin bought it. “Come on, you’re going back to serving.”

Gyuvin tried to protest, but Hanbin just put his hand on his mouth, smothering any attempt to get out of this situation.

“I’m your boss, so you actually have to listen to me, you know.” The cheeky whiskers had returned to Hanbin’s face again.

There was no other option than giving in when Hanbin manipulated him with his cuteness. “Okay, if you insist.”

“Oh, I SO insist. Because if you keep working in the kitchen, I’m actually scared you’ll have no fingers left by the end of the week.”

That got a chuckle out of Gyuvin, and he got out of the chair. Like a mom helping her child, Hanbin took off Gyuvin’s cooking apron and exchanged it for his usual waiter version: a black strip of fabric, only covering his uniform from the waist down.

“You go first; I’ll clean this up quickly.” Hanbin gestured to the bloody towel and first-aid equipment on the floor.

And because Gyuvin didn’t move, he gave his butt a slap of encouragement before pushing him out in the hallway. “You’ll do great.”

He didn’t have any choice, did he? He just had to be careful enough not to run into any customers or drop any drinks or stumble and crash and fall and ruin everything. Easy. Gyuvin took a deep breath before walking down the hallway, through the kitchen and into his own personal battlefield that was the restaurant.

For a Friday evening, it was a lot less busy than he expected. Only three of the fifteen tables were occupied: an older couple, a group of teenage girls in school uniforms, and two businessmen in suits. They all looked rather serviced. Food and drinks are still full enough to not need any refills. Gyuvin was thankful for the easy beginning until the doorbell chimed, attracting his eyes to land on three new customers. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Between two tall, handsome strangers stood a familiar face with white hair.

“Gyuvin, are you going to help the new customers?” Yoonseo called on his walk towards the kitchen, cleaning supplies in hand.

“Yeah, on it.” He tried to straighten out his apron, only for it to stay exactly wrinkled like it was. It shouldn’t matter, but it did to him. The group of new customers had already chosen the table at the window, Ricky sitting down first and one of the other boys joining him. The other one sat opposite to them in the booth. Gyuvin’s fingers tried to seek any kind of mental support at the hem of his frayed apron before he made his way over to join the group.

“Welcome to The Lotus Fountain. Have you already decided what to order?” Gyuvin put on his best customer smile and tone. Not that it mattered anyway. The boy seated alone was thoroughly studying the menu while the other stranger tried to snatch it from him to get a look as well.

“Hao! He asked you something!”

The boy, apparently called Hao, looked up from the paper, giving Gyuvin a sugar-sweet smile, all scrunched-up eyes and apple cheeks. “Sorry, can you give us a minute? I still haven’t decided yet.”

“Of course.” So Gyuvin just stood there, like an idiot, waiting.

“Hao, can you please make up your mind? I need the menu too.” The boy next to Ricky continuously patted Hao’s hand, trying to get the other’s attention.

“Oh, you don’t have to share. We have plenty.” Gyuvin took the menu from the table next to theirs, happy to be useful.

“Thank you so much. That’s so nice of you.”

“Oh, stop it, Jiwoong. You’re so dramatic.” Hao rolled his eyes in mock annoyance at the death stare Jiwoong gave him.

“Bold coming from you.”

“Hey!” As if proving Jiwoong’s statement, Hao pushed his lower lip forward and gave him puppy eyes, which drew a chuckle from the other boy.

During all of that, Ricky hadn’t said anything. Hell, he hadn’t even looked up since Gyuvin came over. Was he avoiding him on purpose? But that wouldn’t make any sense because why did he then return to the restaurant in the first place when he knew Gyuvin worked here?

“Okay, I’ll take a watermelon juice,” Hao decided, putting the menu down, seemingly the previous bickering forgotten.

Gyuvin took out his notepad and started scribbling down the order before addressing Jiwoong. “And you?”

“I’ll have... a coffee. Black, please.”

His friend snickered. “How grown-up of you.”

Jiwoong ignored the comment, handing Gyuvin back the lent menu. Happy to have something to do, Gyuvin turned around, but before he could even take one step, Hao raised his voice.

“Wait, you didn’t take all of our orders. Ricky hasn’t said anything.”

Gyuvin turned around. “A strawberry lemonade, correct?”

His gaze lingered on the quiet blond who now glared at him through dark lashes. The other two boys let out surprised noises and mumbled something along the lines of how well Gyuvin was at his role as a waiter. Gyuvin didn’t really listen to them. All he did was wait for confirmation from the one who met his stare. To his surprise Ricky nodded in agreement, surprising his friends even more.

“Good guess.” Hao congratulated him, to which Gyuvin just hummed before turning around once again, only to be stopped once again, but this time by Jiwoong.

“Wait, I have another request.”

Gyuvin waited as Jiwoong shot Hao a cheeky smile before dragging the ground out from under Gyuvin’s feet. “Can the other waiter please bring the drinks?”

So he was right. Ricky was actually avoiding him, to the point that even his friends knew and wanted someone else to cater to them. Shock clearly visible on his face, he tried to say anything but only opened his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. Jiwoong caught on to the shock and quickly tried to explain himself.

“Don’t misunderstand! It has nothing to do with you. It’s because of him.” To Gyuvin’s surprise, Jiwoong didn’t gesture towards Ricky but to Hao.

The boy in question had put on his innocent puppy face again, all big eyes and pout, completely feigning innocence. “Me?”

“Oh, please.” Jiwoong let out a breath in mock amusement before turning to Gyuvin again. “He wants to be served by the other waiter. I think his name was Sung Hanjin.”

That set something loose in Hao, and he lunged forward to slap Jiwoong, only succeeding in softly patting his arm before the other boy leaned back into his chair, softly chuckling.

“You mean Hanbin?” Gyuvin was too confused to do anything besides offering help.

“Sorry for butchering your boyfriend’s name.” Jiwoong shot Hao an apologetic offer, all words and no heart.

Gyuvin’s brain stopped, making sure he had heard correctly. He was hung up on the word “boyfriend”. As far as he knew, Hanbin was single. He had never mentioned a girlfriend, and sure enough, no boyfriend. They had never talked about their preferences, but Gyuvin was sure if Hanbin was into guys, they would’ve talked about it, right?

“Stop saying nonsense.” Hao was only focusing on Jiwoong, who apparently loved every second of teasing his friend. “You’re confusing people.”

“What? I’m just trying to be your wingman over here.”

Hao sighed. “Just because you’re in a long and loving relationship doesn’t qualify you to play Cupid.”

“Oh, I think it definitely does,” challenged Jiwoong.

Before their bickering could continue any longer or Gyuvin could make any sense of what was going on, a voice made itself known beside him, and a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Everything okay? Is there any problem?”

Speak of the devil. Hanbin had joined the conversation at the right moment, making everyone look at him, even Ricky. The sudden attention turned Hanbin into a confused hamster, eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape. ”No, no, everything’s fine, Hyung.” Gyuvin tried to appease him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Hao tried to help, but his eyes showed a different kind of emotion when laid on Hanbin. Gyuvin didn’t want to dissect what the meaning of this was.

“Great. Have you ordered?”

“Yeah, I have it all written down.” Gyuvin tried to pull Hanbin along with him as he left the table, but his friend took a second longer because of his need to bow to get out of weird situations.

Having arrived in the kitchen, the two started making the drinks in complete silence, with only the clattering of pans and pots around them. Gyuvin felt Hanbin’s stare more than once trying to get his attention, but he didn’t let himself be distracted from making his best strawberry lemonade to date. As soon as Hanbin put the straw into the watermelon juice, Gyuvin swept the glass and the other two drinks from the counter onto a lying-around tray and left, completely ignoring his customer’s wishes to be served by someone else. “I’ll do it.”

Only a few minutes had passed since leaving the friend group behind, and besides Jiwoong and Hao, who seemed engaged in a humorous conversation, gesturing wildly, Ricky still sat there in silence, eyes turned down.

“Your drinks.” Gyuvin swept in, distributing the coasters before carefully placing the beverages on top of them. “Bon appétit.”

“Wait a second.” Hao shattered Gyuvin’s wish to leave as soon as possible. “I have a question.”

Gyuvin gave him his best smile.

“Are you and Hanbin friends?”

Here he went again. “Eh, I guess we’re pretty close. Why?”

Hao clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Perfect! Then could you do me a favour? Can you give me his number?”

Was Hao stalking Hanbin, or what was going on? “Eh, I’m sorry, but I can’t just give you someone else’s number without them knowing.”

Disappointment quickly glazed over Hao’s eyes before scrunching them up again. “Oh, come on. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Oh yeah, it was. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”

Under the assumption that Hao had run into a wall, Gyuvin tried to leave again, but he had underestimated the other boy’s determination, the mischievous glint in his eyes visible before he made yet another attempt, one that Gyuvin did not expect at all.

“Then give Ricky your number.”

“Huh?” Gyuvin was not able to hide his shock, and even the boy in question finally looked up, albeit to stare at his friend.

Hao continued as if he had just said the most natural thing ever. “You look about the same age, and he’s awfully friendless.”

“Hey,” Ricky said for the first time this afternoon. “You are my friends—”

“Zero friends. I’m telling you,” cut Hao him off. “So?”

For someone who thought way too much about everything, Gyuvin was quick to come to a decision and blurted out, “Okay.”

Hao looked awfully pleased with himself, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Great! Ricky, give me your phone.”

“No, I am not going to give you my phone!”

“Oh, come on. Then I’m taking it.” Without a warning, Hao lunged forward, almost knocking over his watermelon juice in his attempt to steal his friend’s phone.

“Stop!” Even when Ricky was screaming, it was a lot quieter and softer than Gyuvin has heard anyone else express frustration. “Ugh, Hao-ge!”

Hao did not seem bothered by his friend’s squirming at all. It took only a few seconds before he had retrieved Ricky’s phone from under the table and now triumphantly offered it to Gyuvin. “Here.”

Before he could change his mind, Gyuvin snatched the phone and quickly typed in his number and name, making sure to save his contact.

“Thank you,” Hao chimed, drawing out the last word.

“What’s your name?” Jiwoong chimed in.

“Uh, Gyuvin. Kim Gyuvin.” He felt like an idiot.

Hao didn’t seem to catch on and only expressed his attitude, seemingly being serious. “Thank you very much, Gyuvin. I owe you one. Oh, and tell Ricky when you’re working.”

Before Gyuvin could even question what the reason for such a request was, he added, “Does Hanbin work the same shifts as you?”

Oh, god, did Gyuvin really just give his number out to a stalker? Well, the friend of a stalker. It made him a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, mostly. He’s the manager.”

“Uhh, did you hear? He’s the manager,” Jiwoong whistled to Ricky before turning to Hao. “Aiming high, my friend.”

Hao snorted. “Shut up.”

“Well, then I better get going. I have a job after all.” The last bit sounded a bit defensive, but if it was the reason to get him finally out of here, then Gyuvin didn’t care.

“Thank you sooo much.” Hao thanked him for the last time.

Gyuvin gave him a nod in acknowledgement and quickly glared at Ricky, who was staring decidedly at his pink-red sugar abomination in front of him, ignoring the stare that lay on him.

After that, Gyuvin mostly scurried through the restaurant, cleaning a few tables and greeting new customers while saying goodbye to others, and before he knew it, his shift was over. It had only been around half an hour since Ricky and his friends came, so they still sat in their place at the window, chatting while slowly sipping on their drinks, laughter emitting mostly from Jiwoong and Hao. The few times Gyuvin had looked over, he had hoped to meet another set of eyes, but Ricky only turned his head to his friends a couple of times, mostly staying quiet and keeping to himself. Even if Gyuvin wanted to stay and observe the interesting friend group, he had a place to be, or more precisely, people to pick up. It was half past six, and Yujin would soon be waiting to be picked up after his soccer practice. While returning his apron, he ran into Hanbin, who quickly gave him a hug before stuffing Gyuvin’s backpack into his arms and shooing him out of the restaurant.

“Say hi to Yujinnie from me!”

“Will do. See you tomorrow.”

He hadn’t even taken three steps out the door into the cold evening air when he had the urge to turn around. A mistake. For the first time this evening, he finally got to look into two dark, piercing eyes. Ricky didn’t keep the eye contact for longer than a few seconds before returning to his friends, but it was enough to send a bolt of lightning through Gyuvin’s entire body, akin to the sharp pain he had felt from the piece of broken porcelain earlier. He swallowed, pulling his eyes away from the dirty window panes of the restaurant. When he breathed out, he felt a little dizzy again but ignored it as he set out onto the dark road, streetlights flickering on. He didn’t notice how the same pair of eyes returned to follow him until he disappeared between the buildings.

Chapter Text

The person who invented hating Mondays didn’t get enough credit in Gyuvin’s opinion. There was literally no worse day of the week than a Monday, especially combined with the worst time of day: morning. Sitting, or more so half-lying, on his school desk, Gyuvin thought about all the necessary steps for him to abolish one day of the week, but he could barely concentrate as his muscles still felt sore from two full shifts on the weekend. He was glad to be working as a waiter again but wasn't used to how draining the constant social interactions and walking around were. His legs were aching, and his neck down to the blades of his shoulders was stiff.

Although it was already bright outside, the sun had decided to take pity on Gyuvin’s lack of sleep and stayed hidden behind grey clouds, allowing him a little nap. But his brain had other plans, never truly letting him doze off and catch a much-needed break. It was buzzing with what had happened, what was happening, and what might happen in the future, and recently its most favourite thing to obsess over was, to Gyuvin’s demise, Ricky. Seeing him with his friends, in a group, had been weird but mostly because it had revealed a new side to him that Gyuvin hadn’t seen before. A more human one. Despite the fact that Ricky still preferred to lean back and not actively interact in group settings, he looked much more comfortable, especially compared to when he had been in the hospital with his mom. At the thought of Ricky’s mother, Gyuvin felt something stir in his stomach. Granted, she hadn’t appeared to be the warmest person, but that didn’t immediately mean she was a bad person. But just the mention of her name had made her own son react in such a weird way. Gyuvin guessed that one’s relationship with their mom was always something complicated, something so full of love but also at such a high risk of turning sour. He had experience with complicated mother relationships.

“Boo!”

Gyuvin shot up, his brain empty, looking around for who had put an end to his quiet peace. He sighed when his eyes landed on a mischievous toothy smile. His best friend grinned down at him, his cheeks all the way scrunched up, turning his eyes into two crescent moons.

“Gunwook!” Gyuvin drawled out, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, not sorry,” slurred Gunwook in English. “Class is starting soon.”

Not only did his best friend put an end to his nap, but he also had to deliver such bad news. An exhausted groan left Gyuvin’s lips before he burrowed his head in his arms again, lying flat on the table and letting the cool wood calm him down a bit.

“That bad?”

Gyuvin hummed a muffled confirmation from underneath his tangled limbs.

Gunwook just continued. “I told you so! It was a stupid idea to start a job along with school. It’s not like studying comes easy to you.”

“Thanks for calling me dumb.” Gyuvin purposely ignored the truth of the previous statement.

“I did not,” Gunwook defended himself, genuinely affronted. He did pride himself on being a kind and nice person. Gyuvin was surrounded by perfect people.

“You did.” And as if to prove himself, Gyuvin started listing off all of his friends’ achievements. “Mr. school president, straight-A student, and captain of the debate club.”

It had the opposite effect. Gunwook blushed, shyly responding between pursed lips. “You flatter me.”

“You’re welcome,” and before stopping himself, Gyuvin added, “nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Affectionately.” Gyuvin tilted his head, a sweet smile playing around his lips.

“Anyway,” Gunwook changed the topic, “did you do the homework?”

At the reminder, Gyuvin sat up straighter and paused, sifting through his mental to-do list before hesitantly asking, “Yeeeahh?” He paused again. “Wait, which one? You’re talking about maths, right?”

“Well, that too, but we also had homework in history.” When Gunwook saw his friend’s confused face, he continued, “You know, the one about the economic impact of the Japanese colonial period…?”

Gyuvin groaned and put his head back on the table, much harder and faster than anticipated, resulting in a dull noise. “Shit.”

“I knew it,” Gunwook sighed before turning around and searching for something in his backpack on the floor. “Here, you can copy mine. But hurry up; you have, like, ten minutes.”

Gyuvin took the offered homework from his friend, his heart feeling warm. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

Face deep in thought, Gunwook scratched his chin before suggesting. “How about buying me some ice cream?”

“Deal.” Gyuvin took out his pencil case and paper and started writing like his life depended on it. It kind of did. Having no homework in Mrs Kim's class got the same reaction out of her as the war crimes she taught.

Completely lost in concentration, Gyuvin did not notice when his homeroom teacher came in. Mr Min was a middle-aged man, and while looking somewhat serious with his perfect suit and glasses, he had quite a warm spot in his heart for his students, although he had interesting ways to show it. His loud echoing voice finally pulled Gyuvin’s attention.

“Good morning, class.” Mr Min took a quick look out the window. “Beautiful one, isn’t it? Before we start, I have a few organisational matters to discuss. First of all, I hope you’re all studying and on top of things. As you know, this is your last year and the CSATS—”

“— determine your entire future. Bla bla bla,” Gyuvin finished the sentence for what seemed the millionth time. The pressure of the new and final year of his high school experience had hit him like a rock in the face, even just in the first couple of days of the new semester. Not just the teachers but also his parents, and apparently every person around him had so many expectations about his foreseeable future that not even Gyuvin himself had. If he was being truthful, he just hoped he was able to pass; however, that wasn’t enough, and he knew it. Gunwook was right though; Gyuvin wasn’t the best at studying. It just was never something that had come easy to him. He was acutely aware of the fact that he needed to study much longer and much harder than all of his peers ever had. It was frustrating because the results definitely didn’t match his effort, his grades always just being good enough but never great. Multiple times Gyuvin had thought about just not studying at all, but he knew what would come of it: nothing. So he studied, just to be average. Being in his last year of high school should’ve been something of an incentive but if he let his mind dance around and settle on the fact that he probably had another four years of university before him, it began to shut down. Not going was never an option though, not in his mom’s eyes, so he didn’t even consider it. Just five more years, Gyuvin thought.

His homeroom teacher seemed to have finished his inspirational speech about future paths and exams. “I have a surprise for you.”

That was something new. The last time Mr Min had a ‘surprise’ for them, it was the annual doctor’s examination, so Gyuvin didn’t get his hopes up too high. The sting of the shot still lingered deep in his skin when he thought about it.

“We have a new student.”

The classroom suddenly broke out in excited mumbles and whispers, and even Gyuvin couldn’t hide his curiosity. He looked to his right, where Gunwook raised his shoulders as if to answer the unspoken question of if he had any more information as the school president.

“Yeah yeah, I know, exciting and all. But please listen to me first. I want you all to help him out a bit, okay? He needs help to catch up on everything he missed from the last couple of weeks. You know how everything matters for the final exam. So be nice and show comradeship.” Mr Min tried to control the chaos, but it was quite futile.

“Why did he transfer?” A student from behind Gyuvin asked.

“That is private information. You can ask him that yourself,” the homeroom teacher answered.

“But why change a few weeks after the start of the school?” another student chimed in.

Mr Min sighed. “Again, ask him that yourself. Helps building friendships and all.”

The room was still filled with the humming of excited students talking secretly under their breaths when a knock came from the door. The deep echo immediately did exactly what their homeroom teacher always so desperately tried: the classroom was quiet. Everyone’s eyes were locked on the door in anticipation.

“Ah, that must be him,” Mr Min broke the eerie silence. “Everyone, be nice.” He opened the door and stuck his head outside, shielding the new arrival from the rest of the class. For a couple of seconds he seemed to be talking to someone before turning around and gesturing for the person to enter.

Gyuvin’s mouth fell open in complete shock at the new arrival. Out of all the possible places he could have run into Ricky, the school had not been on his mind. He couldn’t help but stare because something was different about the face that had become familiar in the last couple of weeks. Ricky’s hair was black! The previous white, almost translucent, colour was smothered in coal black. It was only that one thing that completely changed the whole demeanour of the boy. What previously had seemed delicate, almost angelic, now had a sharp edge to it. The eyebrows, now matching the hair, made his eyes appear much more dangerous, a complete contrast to their round marble visual Gyuvin had become accustomed to.

“Would you mind introducing yourself?” Mr Min’s words pulled Gyuvin out of his spiral.

As Ricky turned to face the class, a few dark strands fell into his face. Gyuvin’s eyes travelled over the face-framing pieces to the piercings that still adorned both ears, glittering silver in the morning light. The back of the hair was longer than Gyuvin remembered. It was long enough that whispy ends covered the majority of Ricky’s tattoo under his right ear. For anyone else it was not the first thing that they would notice, too distracted by Ricky’s face, but Gyuvin couldn’t help but fixate on the inked letters peeking out.

“Hi,” Ricky cleared his throat before continuing a bit louder. “Hello. I’m Shen Ricky, the new student. Please take care of me.”

He bowed almost ninety degrees, the school tie nearly touching the floor on his way down.

Mr Min clapped his hands together in an attempt to catch everyone’s attention. “Great, now that you know him, I hope everyone will help him out when he needs it. Ricky, you can sit down.” When the boy in question surveyed the room in confusion, his new teacher added, “There, in the last row, behind Park Gunwook. The tall intimidating guy.”

Gunwook let out a frustrated noise at the usual remark. Mr Min caught on and smiled reassuringly at him. “Just kidding, he’s a nice kid.”

Unsure of what was going on, Ricky nodded and just silently made his way through the rows to his seat. When he passed Gyuvin, he didn’t seem to notice him, settling into his chair and getting his pencil case — the metal one he had at the restaurant — and a notepad out.

In the background, Mr Min continued to talk about other important matters that needed a discussion, but Gyuvin had his back towards him and only had eyes for the new student, who just stared straight forward, seemingly completely unaware of Gyuvin’s existence.

But his stare didn’t go unnoticed by everyone. Gunwook reached over the aisle and smacked his friend's arm, trying to catch his attention. It worked.

“What?” Gyuvin asked a little bit too loud.

“What are you doing?” Gunwook scream-whispered back. Gyuvin realised how stupid this must look. Besides Hanbin, no one knew about Ricky. And if he was being honest, not even Hanbin knew the full extent of what had happened. But now was not the time for explanations, so instead of answering, Gyuvin just mirrored his friend’s confused expression and turned back to the boy behind Gunwook.

“Psst! Ricky!” Gyuvin tried his best to keep his voice down; maybe he succeeded a bit too well because he just kept getting ignored, so he tried a second time, this time louder. “Hey, Ricky!!”

It worked. Gyuvin hadn’t really planned out what to say after getting Ricky’s attention, and the consequences of his actions now stared back at him, somehow digging a hole deep inside his stomach. To his surprise, the other boy’s eyes grew bigger before squinting at him with something akin to recognition.

“Kim Gyuvin?” Mr Min’s voice called out. The boy in question winced, slowly turning around to face his teacher, who gave him chiding raised eyebrows.

“I see you’re especially fond of our new student. Thank you for offering to show him around the school today, but please not during class.”

Gyuvin couldn’t even protest; he just kept blinking, waiting for the rest of the class to shift their attention away from him. He sat there in his chair for a few minutes thinking about the morning he just had in the last thirty minutes. Oh, how the universe was testing him: Homework forgotten, Ricky was in his class and called out by his teacher.

Wait.

Gyuvin replayed the exact words his homeroom teacher had just said. Had he called Gyuvin fond of Ricky? Oh god. He groaned — quietly — not wanting to incur the wrath of Mr Min again and tried to seek refuge in his arms for the second time this morning.

 ‿̩͙‿੭　∔⠀ৎ‿̩͙‿

The rest of the homeroom period went by quickly enough. Gyuvin didn’t have the strength, neither physically nor mentally, to crawl out of his protective layers of arms, so he just pretended to sleep for the rest. When the bell finally rang to announce the ten-minute break before the real agony started, he felt a soft tap on his right shoulder. He couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at who it was and was disappointed to look into his best friend’s eyes.

“What was that?” Gunwook changed to sit at his table, arms crossed.

Leaving his comfort, Gyuvin sat up and lounged back into his seat, lazily shaking his head, before he casually turned his head over his shoulder to see what Ricky was doing.

It was only a matter of seconds before he blurted out. “Hey, Ricky!”

The name felt strange and foreign on his tongue, and it felt even more uncomfortable to be calling it at such a high decibel, as if his tongue was still getting used to each individual letter.

But Ricky just turned to face him, completely unaware of Gyuvin’s inner turmoil. “Mmh? You talking to me?”

Gyuvin swallowed, smiling big to hide his embarrassment. “Well, I don’t know anyone else called Ricky, so—”

“Shame,” Ricky cut him off.

The comment caught Gyuvin a bit off guard, and it took a few seconds for him to regain his words. What was wrong with him? Usually he was much more skilled at talking.

“Do you remember me from the restaurant?” he asked gingerly.

A look of recognition flitted over Ricky’s face. “Ahhh, you’re that fake waiter.”

“I’m not fake!” Gyuvin indignantly protested. “I’m the real thing.”

“Sure.” The other boy mockingly raised an eyebrow.

Why was it so hard to have a normal conversation with Ricky? Usually when talking with other people, Gyuvin was a barrel of words, overflowing with all he had to say, but with Ricky he had to scrape at the bottom of it, desperately trying to find any letters to string into a sentence. But if he was one thing, then it was persistent, so he didn’t give up that easily. “Anyway, why is your hair black?”

“Oh my God, Gyuvin, you can’t just ask people why their hair is black.”

“Shut up, Gunwook.” Gyuvin completely ignored his best friend’s attempt to join the conversation, eyes still on Ricky. “So?”

Now Ricky was raising both of his eyebrows, waiting a few seconds before returning the question. “Well, why is your hair brown?”

Gyuvin was a little taken aback by the question, confused how it tied in, but he still answered. “I dyed it.”

“Wow, so you do know how that works.” Ricky’s words were dripping in mock impressment. It was a bit annoying and spurred something on in Gyuvin’s brain, which he promptly ignored.

“But your hair was white.”

“Great observation.”

Unable to help himself, Gyuvin sighed in frustration. “You really don’t like talking, do you?”

The other boy readjusted in his seat before locking eyes with him, words spilling faster over his lips than Gyuvin thought possible. “It’s 09:20 in the morning, and I have absolutely no desire to talk about my stylistic choices with a stranger in the couple of minutes of break that I get. So no, I do not like talking.”

“I think that’s the most consecutive words I’ve heard you say.” Gyuvin was genuinely surprised, receiving a roll of the eyes, before insisting. “But why did you dye it?”

Ricky didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he settled on something between a sigh and a whine. “I’m not trying to get suspended on my first day at a new school, okay? As far as I know, dyed hair isn’t allowed here, is it?”

That was the logical conclusion. Like every other school in the country, hair colours that didn’t look natural were forbidden. Gyuvin only got away with his brown hair because he made up a lie that he went on vacation and the sun had bleached it. His teachers were fine with it, but any other colourful hair — like white — was definitely against the rules. However, this was still not enough to satisfy him.

“But why was it bleached before that? You must’ve gone to another school. Is that the reason you transferred?”

“Good god, you have an awful lot of questions,” Ricky groaned in genuine frustration but gave in anyway. “It was an art school. Dyed hair was allowed.”

Gyuvin sat up straight, thankful for the answer. “Woah, you do art?”

“I did.”

“Right.” Squiggly colourful lines swam around in Gyuvin’s mind, illuminated by the faint glow of green aquarium lighting. “But you still do it. I saw you…at the restaurant.”

Gyuvin carefully studied Ricky’s reaction to see if it was allowed to expose the fact that he did more than just his waiter duties. It was something so simple, but Gyuvin felt like he just took off his clothes, baring himself to the whole class. No, that would have probably felt less uncomfortable than this — than acknowledging that he had observed Ricky.

“Did you?” The eyes of the other boy softened a little. It was so minute that Gyuvin almost didn’t catch it, but he did, and a new warmth settled in his stomach.

“Mmh,” he hummed a little too quietly.

With a loud thud, the door was suddenly pushed open, ripping Gyuvin out of his bubble, where only Ricky and he existed, to see his math teacher strut into the room.

“Hello, class! I hope you are all eager to learn about stochastic.”

The new arrival of the teacher plunged the classroom into temporary chaos as everyone quickly returned to their assigned seats and struggled to retrieve the required materials. As if that wasn’t enough, the bell rang for the second time, putting a definite end to their break, and the students erupted in a collective groan.

“How enthusiastic,” the math teacher sarcastically declared.

Before he was drowned by numbers and formulas, Gyuvin turned around one last time and caught Ricky still looking at him, who quickly looked away at his desk, his notes suddenly very interesting. The little blush on the boy’s ears made Gyuvin smile. He was surprised Ricky was capable of emotions such as embarrassment; he seemed much too controlled and attentional for anything to genuinely draw such a reaction out of him, and Gyuvin felt a little victorious at being able to elicit such a reserved version of the boy.

“Hey,” Gyuvin whispered.

Ricky immediately looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“You want to have lunch together? I always meet up with friends. So, do you want to join? You already know one.” Gyuvin gestured to Gunwook next to him. “Well, besides me, of course.”

As if magically summoned, Gunwook turned around to give Ricky the biggest, toothiest smile he could offer. “Hi.”

Ricky’s eyes perused over the human personification of a teddy bear before returning to Gyuvin. “We’ll see.”

“Come on, it’s going to be great,” Gyuvin enthusiastically pushed.

“Kim Gyuvin!” For the second time this morning, his name was called from the front of the classroom. “I see you’re excited to explain the Bernoulli distribution. Come up front and show the whole class.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, begging for something to go his way for once. This definitely wasn’t his day. Against his will, Gyuvin pushed himself out of his seat and walked towards what could only be compared to a public execution. He heard Gunwook snicker and caught the quick smirk that pulled at Ricky’s lips before he put on his usual facade again. With pleading eyes he tried to spark some empathy in his teacher’s soul but to no avail. He picked up the chalk and turned towards the board, desperately trying to remember what he had copied from Gunwook earlier. After all, he had forgotten to do his maths homework.

 ‿̩͙‿੭　∔⠀ৎ‿̩͙‿

Being in your last year of high school had at least one perk: you were the first in line for lunch. The last two years, and especially when he was a freshman, Gyuvin had always been too late, and the fruit was already gone — and he loved fruit. But since becoming a senior, he has had the privilege of tasting the refreshing sweets every day. Today’s menu had strawberries. A strong contender on Gyuvin’s list of favourite fruits but could never dethrone his number one spot: mangos. But those were a rarity in the dingy school cafeteria, and so he held up his silver tray and put on his best ‘favourite child’ smile in hopes of getting an extra big portion. His efforts were in vain, as the cafeteria lady slopped the same amount of fruit onto his plate as Gunwook had gotten before him. Spirits broken, he kept lingering around the serving counter waiting for Ricky to get his share of lunch.

“Are you waiting for me?” Ricky tried to point at himself, but the soup in one of the little compartments of his tray dangerously sloshed around, immediately halting him in any movements.

“We literally came here together,” Gyuvin reminded him deadpan before dragging him along with Gunwook to their usual table at the end of the hall.

When Gyuvin had asked Ricky earlier to join them for lunch, he thought it would take much more persuasion, but when the bell had rung to announce the much-needed break, Ricky had just followed the other two boys without a word. He hadn’t exactly agreed to anything, but the way he occasionally watched Gyuvin or Gunwook from the corner of his eye was enough confirmation that he didn’t want to be alone. And so here they were in the unbelievably loud and chaotic school cafeteria, every single hungry student clattering with their plates and chopsticks, talking and laughing with their friends. And among them were the rest of Gyuvin’s friends, in the far right corner next to the window.

“Mashuuuuu,” Gunwook chirped across the room, his voice loud enough to reach the other boy, who returned the bright smile.

“Gunwookie!”

Gyuvin could feel Ricky staring at him.

“Don’t mind them.” Gyuvin sighed at his friend's childlike display of affection. “They’re always like that, and it’s gotten way worse since they got split up.”

He followed his friend to join the rest, a confused Ricky in tow. Gunwook and Matthew were still cooing words of affirmation and trying to hold hands across the table. While he did his best to ignore them, he felt a light tap on his hand. Taerae, his other ex-classmate, shot a look between him and Ricky, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, right.” Gyuvin solemnly cleared his throat, pointing one hand at the boy next to him and the other at his two old school friends. “Matthew and Taerae, this is Ricky. Ricky, this is Matthew and Taerae. We were in the same class for the last two years, but the universe was against us this time.”

“Thank god,” Taerae breathed out. “All the better for your grades.”

“Hey! Not you against me as well.” Gyuvin whined.

“What? I’m just telling the truth,” Taerae muffled around a huge spoonful of rice topped off with kimchi.

Gyuvin’s desperation must have sent some sort of mental signal towards Matthew and Gunwook because they finally stopped doing whatever wholesome, tooth-rotting thing they were doing and joined the conversation.

“Where are you from?” Matthew asked.

Apparently there was no easy answer to that question, as Ricky took a careful look at the four faces expectantly waiting.

“Well, I mean, Ricky isn’t a Korean name, right?” Matthew explained, a genuine smile on display.

“Oh yeah, I’m from China.”

As expected, Gyuvin thought. An easy conclusion he had come to by the evidence of his Chinese name and the Mandarin spoken in the hospital.

But Ricky wasn’t done. “But, er… I actually came from America.”

Gyuvin’s head immediately shot up and fixed on the newly consecrated American next to him.

“Oh, really?” Matthew sounded enthusiastic somewhere in the background of Gyuvin’s vision. “That’s so cool. Wait, so do you speak English?”

“Of course,” Ricky answered in English. No accent was apparent to Gyuvin’s ears, but he wasn’t really the right judge with his 78% on his last exam.

Matthew continued to speak in his mother tongue, only partially understandable to Gyuvin. “Oh my god, bro, that’s so cool. I’m from Canada! Thank god I finally have an English buddy. Wait, how long did you live there?”

“Like four years.”

“Cool. Man, I’m so happy.” Matthew giggled, drawing Gunwook’s attention back to him again after having mentally checked out at the first English word spoken. He had ranked even lower than Gyuvin last year.

While Gyuvin just silently stared between the two English speakers, another million questions popped up in his head. He felt betrayed. Yeah, betrayed and confused, because how did he not know? Ricky had met Matthew for what? Not even a minute, and he was somehow worthy of getting information. This was just further cementing Gyuvin’s suspicion that he was on Ricky’s bad side.

To grab his attention, Gyuvin elbowed him softly in his side, eyes fixed on the other boy. Ricky shot him a questioning look, eyebrows raised, and Gyuvin was sure there was malice behind the gleam of the dark brown eyes, but he didn’t hesitate. If Matthew could just ask questions and get them answered, so could he.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re from America?”

“You didn’t ask,” Ricky deadpanned, and Gyuvin wanted to die. Because of course he didn’t ask. How could he have known? It’s not like you just go through a list of possible countries someone could be from when you first meet them. And besides, from his experience, with Ricky you never knew if you would actually get an answer anyway, so even if Gyuvin somehow magically had the epiphany of realising the fact that Ricky is an English name, there would have been no guaranteed answer. From now on he would just ask, he decided. If there was something he wanted to say, he would just say it. That’s what he usually did, but his conversations with Ricky so far had been anything but usual.

The combination of the four morning classes and the strenuous social interactions he had just witnessed made Gyuvin’s head hurt, and his stomach growled in protest of the still untouched food in front of him, so he finally dug in, hoping to both still his hunger and his thoughts. His friends had already started to fall into casual conversation between their bites of lunch, but he didn’t join, too focused on completing his meal to reward himself with the strawberries. Maybe he was a little too invested in reaching his sugary sweet goal that it took him a while to notice that the tray on his left stayed mostly full. Ricky held his chopsticks and dug around in his vegetables to just occasionally nibble on some rice. The only compartment that was empty was the one previously filled with the strawberries, and Gyuvin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, gaining Ricky’s attention.

Mouth still full of his own food, Gyuvin's words slurred into one another, making it a little hard to understand him. “You’re not used to Korean food, or do you just really like strawberries?”

“Both,” Ricky said completely seriously.

Without hesitation, Gyuvin shovelled his fruit — his sacred sweets — into Ricky’s tray.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to keep you alive. This”, Gyuvin pointed with his chopsticks towards the mountain of rice and vegetables still full on the tray, “is not going to be enough to keep you going through the day.”

Unimpressed, Ricky looked back and forth between the newly acquired strawberries and the person who so kindly had granted such treasure.

Gyuvin chewed on his lower lip, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But if you don’t want it—”

“No!” The other boy knocked the chopsticks, daring to take away his strawberries with his own. “No taking back. That’s stealing!”

Like a little kid, Ricky stuffed a spoon with way too much fruit in his mouth, barely being able to chew, resembling a hamster. A deep laugh bubbled up from Gyuvin’s throat, earning him an annoyed but very cute death stare in return. It was impressive how fast Ricky devoured the strawberries.

“So, Ricky? Are you going to join any clubs?” Matthew asked.

“Hmmm?” Ricky looked up mid-chew.

“You know, like after-school activities,” Taerae explained further.

Using his fingers, Matthew started listing possible options. “For example, Gunwookie is in the debate club, Taerae is in the school band, and I’m in the soccer club.”

“And in which club is Gyuvin?”

The way Ricky pronounced his name made it sound like he said ‘ng’ instead of ’n’, adding a cute edge to Gyuvin’s name. It was the first time he had said his name, and he wanted to hear him say it again and again and again. Gyuvin never thought that his name could sound so cute. His friends at the table tried their best to show no reaction at the slight mispronunciation, but all had some sort of smile or smirk flickering over their faces.

Taerae was the first to regain composure. “Gyuvin”, he emphasised every single letter, toothy grin on display, “is not in any clubs.”

“Oh, why?” Ricky sounded genuinely devastated.

“My mom thinks it’s a waste of time and that I should rather study.”

“Which you don’t do.”

“Hey!” Gyuvin threw his hands in the air at Taerae’s backstab.

“Because you go to your stupid part-time job,” added Gunwook, voice low but definitely loud enough for everyone to hear, especially the person seated right next to him.

Gyuvin laughed incredulously, eyes now set on his alleged best friend. “What do you have against me working?! Do you want me to be poor?”

”You’re taking part in capitalism,” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders, as if that would explain everything.

“Yeah, like everyone else.” Gyuvin shook his head. “Let me be happy and buy my manga.”

“Capitalist”.

Gyuvin buried his face in his hands and sighed. “Please take your hate for the economy into your debate club.”

“We don’t debate about Karl Marx.”

“Whatever.” Gyuvin was done with the conversation.

“So,” Matthew, ever the mediator, tried to get Ricky’s attention. “Do you have any clubs in mind?”

The strawberries were now completely demolished, leaving Ricky’s mouth free to answer. “No, I don’t think I want to.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Gyuvin sighed before realising how it sounded and started backtracking. “I mean, like, that’s great for me because I don’t have to show you around today. Not that I don’t want to, but I have a shift after school—”

He cut himself off to pointedly stare at Gunwook.

“What?? I didn’t say anything,” his friend feigned mock innocence.

Gyuvin squinted his eyes. “Oh, but you thought that!”

“Oh, what, you can read minds now?”

“Doing everything but studying,” Taerae added, snickering, the remark hitting a bit too close to home.

His body felt like jelly, and Gyuvin collapsed theatrically on the table, groaning and throwing a little bit of a tantrum. “Why is everyone against me today?”

At least Matthew had a drop of compassion left in him and patted Gyuvin’s head, but his voice was dripping in mock pity. “Rough day?”

Real or not, Gyuvin took the bait, indulging in the act of being cared for, humming in agreement.

Gunwook chuckled at his friend’s agony. “He got called out by Mr Min and had to explain formulas — which he didn’t do as homework — to the whole class.”

“Awh, poor guy.” Matthew kept patting his head.

Gyuvin stopped his act for a second to squint over his arms, pouting a little, with eyes so big and sparkly as if the whole universe was inside of them. “Yeah, so you’re all obligated to be super nice to me for the rest of the day.”

“Oh my god, that reminds me.” Gunwook completely ignored his whining. “You still owe me an ice cream.”

“Ha!” Gyuvin entangled one of his arms to forcefully poke his friend’s shoulder. “That I wouldn’t be able to buy if not for my job, so you’re supporting capitalism too!”

“Jesus, I just wanted my ice cream.”

 ‿̩͙‿੭　∔⠀ৎ‿̩͙‿

The afternoon thankfully treated Gyuvin much kinder than the morning had, and he remained a mere spectator to the usual boring academic chaos. But today his dull, repetitive surroundings had something more interesting to offer; at the expense of his grades, he didn’t pay attention to the teachers — not that he usually did — but kept stealing looks at the boy behind him, and there were even a few times Ricky had looked back. Gyuvin found it quite amusing how that could elicit some kind of reaction out of the other boy, mostly just an annoyed look or a furrowed brow, but a reaction nonetheless.

When the bell finally rang to announce the end of the academic torture and the beginning of Gyuvin’s corporal torture, he found himself standing at Ricky’s desk, looking down as the other was packing up his bag.

“Are you ready for the tour of your life?”

“No.” Ricky was still not really acknowledging his presence.

“Come on,” Gyuvin whined. “You could at least pretend to be a little bit excited.”

Done with packing, Ricky stood up, eyes almost at the same level as Gyuvin’s, announcing. “I mean ‘no’ as in ‘no, I’m not ready because I’m going home.’” And with that, he made his way out of the classroom.

Gyuvin immediately followed suit. “What? But I was supposed to—Mr Min said—”

He almost ran into the other boy; so abruptly did Ricky stop and turn around. “You have work right now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“So go.” It was hard to discern if that was meant in good faith or if Ricky just didn’t want to spend time with him.

Responsibility was a virtue Gyuvin cherished dearly and did his best to uphold, even if he didn’t have the best grades; his teacher had given him this task, and — be it against his will — he wouldn’t just not do it.

“But then you don’t know where you have to go tomorrow.”

“We have everything together anyway, right?”

That was true.

“Yeah, but what if you get lost before school even starts?”

There was genuine disbelief plastered over Ricky’s usually stiff features. “I’m not some helpless child, you know,” he breathed out.

“Let’s meet up.” If Ricky didn’t want his help, he at least had to meet him halfway. “Tomorrow morning. At the east entrance, okay?”

If Gyuvin was one thing, then he was absolutely hard to resist. He did the whole nine yards: tilting his head, pushing his lower lip forward, and raising his eyebrows to let his eyes appear even bigger than they already were.

Sick and tired of Gyuvin’s baby act, Ricky let out a sigh, glancing one more time at the boy in front of him before giving in. “If you insist.”

“Hell yeah, I do! I’m a responsible student.” Chest puffed out and shoulders straight, Gyuvin gained even more centimetres in height, but that didn’t matter as the slightly smaller boy was already walking away.

“Byeeeeeee, see you tomorrow!”

All that Gyuvin got in return was a raised hand as Ricky turned around the corner. He would see him again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. It felt so surreal to be in Ricky’s presence and to talk to him. Compared to the boy he met at the lake, this version of him was much more human, and it made something curl in Gyuvin’s stomach as he left the school grounds. This always happened when he was alone; when everything was quiet, his brain became loud, and it buzzed with every word he had exchanged with the other boy over the day. Many of them he regretted now. But it was what it was, and it is what it is — or that’s what he told himself. He didn’t have time for all of this now; he couldn’t afford to be distracted at work again, so he abandoned all of the thoughts that even closely had anything to do with his new classmate, somehow leaving his head completely empty.