Chapter Text
"Joyful High: Where every student’s voice is raised by our teachers, respected by their peers, and heard by the world". Read the sign Junhan —J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷— would read every morning. His stomach would recoil and hurt when he did, when his eyes read those blatant lies, large and flashy on the school’s entrance. What a nice way to start sophomore year.
The skin of his bare legs, their upper half covered by his—the school’s— skirt, shivered and prickled in the cold weather, like a reminder that he wasn’t wearing pants or loafers. He– She?— was wearing a skirt and Mary Jane shoes. A blouse. Covered by the school’s sweater, which he had bought two sizes larger. But underneath, there was still a blouse, and in its collar, a bow.
Junhan’s days were monotonous and boring. His parents were thankful that it was that way, though. Thankful that he was such a studious, calm girl, never getting involved in any trouble. J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ was just so polite and ladylike. He would get out of bed with a wide yawn and a fuzzy expression, shower and take a long time in there. ‘J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ has been taking so long in the bathroom lately. Aww! I bet she’s been trying on cute hairstyles lately.’ Her mom thought while Junhan was staring at her face in the mirror. The shoes were uncomfortable and stiff, the blouse was tight and rough, the skirt was too revealing. The bow was suffocating around his neck, choking him. With a heavy sigh, he put his black hair in a ponytail, making sure to leave his bangs out of it, to hide J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ behind the thick strand of hair that laid between his eyes.
He kept his head down as he crossed the threshold, the fabric of the oversized sweater rustling against his arms. Every step in those thin Mary Jane shoes felt like walking on glass, the click of the low heels against the polished tile floor echoing in his ears like an accusation.
Junhan kept his hands shoved deep into his pockets, fingers clenched into tight fists and pulling the front of the sweater forward to keep the fabric from resting against his chest. The bow of the blouse pressed against his collarbone, a tight knot he wasn't allowed to untie.
The hallway was a battlefield of constant, overwhelming noise. Groups of girls stood by the lockers, their laughter high-pitched and fluid. They hit each other's arms gently while they laughed. Their smiles were radiant because of their teeth and their lipgloss, talking about beauty and trendy cafeterias. Junhan passed them like a ghost, they wore the same uniform, but he’d rather die than to be associated with them. He had hung out with girls last year, when he was a freshman. But he just felt so out of place. They were nice and kind and pretty, but not to him, to J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷. He didn’t want his hair braided or his skirt pulled up. He didn’t want to talk about who likes who and which girl has more chances to get a random boy. After those two weeks of being even more of a foreigner than he is now, he— J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ — became just another background character. Someone people would never talk to. People weren’t mean to him, but everyone had their crew already, people who they belonged with. Junhan was the odd one out.
Then he walked past the boy’s locker room. The air there smelled differently and a little gross. Sweat, cheap cologne, and the loud energy of boys shoving each other and laughing with wide, open—and flat—chests. Junhan slowed his pace just a fraction, his eyes darting toward them under the shadow of his bangs. He felt a fierce, burning ache in his ribs. He wanted to be shoved into a locker too, he wanted to be yelled at because of something fun he’d say, he wanted to belong to the clumsy, immature brotherhood boys had just because all of them had the same thing in common: being a boy. But when, rarely, the opportunity showed, he’d back out in fear. Everyone could see his skirt and his shoes and her face. They all know that he’s not a real man.
Between all the shoving and laughing behind the opened door, a boy tripped and bumped into him. His loosened posture quickly straightened up, his tall frame looming over Junhan’s. Jungsu was a nice boy. He had a lot of friends and helped him pick up some books last year when he dropped them accidentally.
“Oops. Sorry, J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷.” He said. His voice softened, treating him with the delicate, awkward politeness reserved for girls boys didn't know well.
“It’s fine.” He whispered, voice higher because of the sudden startle and shame. It didn’t sound like him at all, and he felt the very urgent need to crawl into a hole and never come out of it.
He paced fastly towards his homeroom. His seat was at the very back corner, right next to the window. He dropped his heavy backpack onto the floor with a gentle thud and immediately crossed his arms over his desk, burying his face in his sleeves.
The bell rang, sharp and demanding. Although the students didn’t shut up until the teacher was bordering on anger. How do they have so much energy, so early in the morning?
The homeroom teacher stepped up to the podium. He started saying the same things he said every morning last year too. Attendance— Which was bad, he had to respond to J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷’s name.— Random information like new schedules, homework, new students… A new student? Junhan didn't lift his head from his arms. New students meant new eyes and new people to avoid, and another person who would look at him and see a girl. Through his sweater, he heard the boy came all the way from the countryside, and to be nice. The classroom door slid open, and the heavy, static air of Joyful High seemed lighter for just a second.
---
Jiseok’s life, up until five days ago, had been a canvas filled with beautiful landscapes and familiarity with everyone. The clear blue of the sky over the fields, the trees and the sweet apples he’d pick out of them. Kwak Jiseok was a complete foreigner to the word ‘monotonous’ . His mornings started with a kiss on his forehead and his mom telling him it’s time to go to school. The smell of warm rice and coffee filled his nostrils right after, all cooked up by his grandmother. In the countryside, everyone knew each other. And he particularly was the boy everyone knew. The one with the big round eyes and the bright smile. It was cartoonish, how he’d wave to the elders working while he walked to school, run errands for a random lady just because it costs nothing to be kind.
The high school there was small, socially and architecturally. Teenage cliques weren’t really a thing, there weren't enough people to categorize each other into a ladder of coolness and popularity, everyone just knew each other since they were kids. His days in the building were fun. He was smart and friendly so he kind of hung out with everyone. He’d go out weekly and also managed to get good grades. He’d play guitar for the town’s church and go out with his best friend after, Jooyeon, who sang in the choir along his other friend, Gunil.
He cried nonstop, like a baby, when he found out they had to part ways. Jiseok’s father’s job changed, and all of a sudden there were no farmers to wave to, no trees to pick apples from. The uniform was a little tight, but he refused to be choked by the knot of his tie. He had to be hopeful, even if he was scared. So he blasted music while he got ready for school, stared at himself in the mirror and gave himself a determined nod, and stepped into the subway train, praying not to get lost in it. Standing in the polished floors of Joyful high felt odd. The tiles were smooth and shiny, instead of the rusty wooden ones from home. He adjusted the strap of his backpack and took a deep breath, only to then flash a radiant smile to the teacher right after he introduced him.
“Hey! I’m Kwak Jiseok. Like Mr. Younghyun said, I just transferred from the countryside.” He said, his voice carrying an accent and also an undeniable casual, airy kindness. “Please look after me! I don't know how things work here at all.” He added with a chuckle that was something between nervous and friendly.
The heavy silence of the room was broken by the whispers filling it. The girls mumbled about his pretty eyes and smile. “He’s a little short though.” and their glossed up smiles appeared again. The boys at the back chuckled, shouting out welcoming words and drawn to his easygoing energy. Again, Junhan eyed them while longing filled his eyes. Jiseok was a boy, in the exact way Junhan wants to be one. He wasn’t intimidating or aggressive like the boys from the sports club, he looked gentle, bright and young. Boyish and teenage.
The teacher pointed towards an empty desk in the middle of the classroom, in the front and next to one of Junhan’s classmate, Oh Seungmin— He was part of the cool, popular boys, the kind to mess around practice sports and go out partying, but that’s unimportant— Jiseok, in five minutes, had settled into the boy’s group as if he had always belonged there. It made a complicated set of emotions stir up in Junhan’s chest. Envy, venomous and consuming, admiration, and hope, if the guys were so open to someone they barely knew, maybe they’d let Junhan in, right? Junhan. But they don’t know Junhan. Just J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷, wearing a skirt and a bow and meant to hang with other bow-wearing girls.
Junhan spent maybe too long staring at Jiseok and his tie, it was looser around his neck and tied clumsily. His eyes had turned pleading once again, while he saw Oh Seungmin treat Jiseok as if they were friends forever.
“J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷!” Her classmate infront of him called, turning around to her. Sullyoon is nice. She’s kind and pretty, she was part of the group Junhan had tried to hang out with in freshman year. “You like the new boy?” She giggled softly, her smile bright and too pretty for what Junhan was used to. His cheeks flushed suddeny. 'Sullyoon is pretty. Boys like pretty girls.' He quickly shook his head. He never has been really interested in romance, and guessed it was normal to feel flustered by good-looking people.
“No.” He murmured. “I was watching… the pins on his backpack.” He lied hesitantly, his gaze flickering between Sullyoon and Jiseok.
---
For the past few days, Jiseok days were like a tornado. A nice one, but still. Everything in the city was too fast and structured for his carefree, grassy lifestyle he had grown used to back at his home. In his school, the students were like one big family and they’d be willing to spend time and play ball with almost everyone. But now in the city, school seemed like a complicated ecosystem of different coexisting species— Popular kids, weirdos, freaks… etc.
Jiseok had catched Oh Seungmin’s eye since day one, inviting him to sit beside him in the classroom and have lunch with him and his group. Oh Seungmin is a cool guy, there’s no denying that. He’s quite popular, he plays sports, is tall, has a nice body and a pretty face, and he’s actually nice, unlike some other people of his group. He’s the only boy Junhan had ever allowed himself to like—although the crush lasted for a week before Junhan noticed he only liked Seungmin because he had just finished a silly romance anime and was influenced by it.
Seungmin had offered him a seat on his golden table at lunch, but Jiseok’s curiosity was too big, and instead he just bounced around the tables that had empty chairs. One day, he sat with a group of pretentious art kids, the next with the loud boys from the soccer team, after that he was sharing his snacks with a group of coloured-hair and pierced up people in the courtyard. He wanted to know everyone.
Junhan sat in his usual isolated spot by the stairwell, eating a plain rice ball, and looked down at the courtyard. Jiseok was there, sitting at a crowded picnic table, his flat chest shaking while he laughed with a wide smile. He wanted the clumsy, sticky camaraderie that Jiseok got by doing absolutely nothing. He wanted to be a boy who belonged too. But looking down at his bare legs under the plaid skirt, the reality crushed him. If he tried to join them, they would see a girl trying to invade their space. It made his chest hurt. He was full of envy, so full of it it made him feel guilty, like a bad person. He wanted to be Jiseok’s friend; He wanted to be like Jiseok. But he also knew that both of those thoughts wouldn’t come true. ‘He’s a boy. I’m not a real boy, so I can't approach him.’
---
By Friday lunchtime, the cafeteria was the jungle it was by that time. There was non-stop noise and the slight smell of food. Oh Seungmin’s popular crowd sat under the brightest sunlit windows. Jiseok stood at the entrance balancing his heavy lunch tray, looking around with wide, curious eyes. He had been bouncing from table to table like an excited dog at a new park, eager to know every group and learn everyone's name.Today his eyes didn't even look at the popular seats. He immediately locked onto the isolated back corner by the fire exit.
“Jiseokkie!” He turned his head. Oh Seungmin was waving at him from the center table with a warm, handsome smile on his face as he gestured to an empty chair he had saved. “Come sit over here today!” He asked once again.
The boy offered a bright, apologetic smile while dipping his head. “Ah, thank you, Seungmin! But no, thanks. I’m actually gonna have lunch with the girl over there today.” He tilted his chin toward the back corner.
Seungmin blinked, his eyes tracking Jiseok’s gaze until they landed on the massive black sweater huddled over a lonely table. A soft, pitiful look passed over Seungmin's face. “Oh.” Seungmin murmured, keeping his voice kind but realistic. “Good luck!” He chuckled. “You’ll definitely need it. That’s Junha. She’s... incredibly quiet. I tried talking to her last year, but she doesn't really say a word to anyone."
“Is that so?” Jiseok’s eyes crinkled into happy lines. “Well, maybe she just hasn't had anything she wanted to say yet. See you in class!” With a cheerful bounce, Jiseok walked away from the popular table.
He didn't think twice about turning down the cool kids for who-knows times his first month. School wasn’t about cliques, it was just a giant room full of potential city best friends. His loafers clicked against the tiles confidently. In the corner, Junhan was curled over the table, his fingers running over the bow in his collar from over his sweater. He had been watching Jiseok from beneath his bangs just moments ago—watching him reject the perfect, kind Oh Seungmin. Junhan’s chest had tightened with envy, he had grown painfully used to it. ‘Seungmin wants him. Everyone wants him. He’s exactly the kind of boy everyone loves.’
A heavy plastic tray hit the table with a loud thud right next to his elbow. Jiseok slid into the plastic chair without asking and completely ignoring the fact that Junhan didn’t look up.
‘Oh no.’ Jiseok’s boyish presence was overwhelming. Junhan could see the stiff line of his dark trousers and the flat expanse of his uniform shirt. The agonizing envy made Junhan feel sick. Looking at Jiseok from across the room was torture already, and having him right here made Junhan feel painfully self-conscious of his own skirt and the bow tied around his neck. He felt like a weirdo wearing a costume, sitting next to a real teenage boy. Junhan’s throat closed with panic. Jiseok had never heard his voice. If he opened his mouth to tell him to leave, he would hear J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷’s voice. His lips remained shut. He looked down at his own plate, his heart hammering against his ribs, determined to stay like the quiet, unapproachable girl everyone knows J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ is.
But Jiseok just leaned back in his chair, pulled a set of chopsticks apart and looked down at the floor. His eyes caught the lunchbag resting against the table leg, looking for pins similar to the ones he had seen in her bag—The band logos and the silly little anime characters. Jiseok’s bright, sunny smile somehow turned even wider. She loved the exact same music he did, and he was determined to be her friend.
“Hey!”— After that, Jiseok turned into a talking machine. Junhan was impressed, and also afraid. He spoke non-stop in that voice that made Junhan recoil with jealousy. He talked about the school lunch, how warm and city-like it was. About the uniform, that he had ironed it crisp for his first day but stopped caring after a month. About the pretty landscapes at home, the sweet apples from his tree and how the ones from the supermarket were bland. Nearly everything, really. Jiseok had spilled his soul in that lunch period expecting the shortest word, the smallest reaction—Anything, but the biggest thing he had received was the smallest nod just now, when he finished talking.
Why wasn’t she talking back? Had he been too straightforward? Too talkative? Did he disrespect her without noticing? His excited smile faltered for just a second, his lips pouting for the shortest time before smiling once again, just softer and more careful. Jiseok never was the type of boy to keep things to himself—clearly.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked almost shyly, which threw Junhan off.
Junhan felt guilty immediately. He had heard all these wonderful stories from Jiseok. He got to know that he was nice, silly and kind. And he still couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. The envy consumed him, and knowing he felt so uneasy towards a boy so cheery like him, only made it worse. He felt awful, the jealousy inside him was venomous, unjustified. He either had to let a happy boy like Jiseok sulk because of his fault, or soothe his feelings by letting him hear his girly voice say no. He shifted slightly in the chair and cleared his throat.
“No.” He muttered. “I’m just awkward. Sorry.” Junhan was thankful that those five simple words were enough to make Jiseok smile and start talking again. He still felt uncomfortable and invalidated by his boyish presence, but at least he wouldn’t be sulking because of his fault. It definitely was enough, because Jiseok had turned into a noise machine again, until the bell rang.
Junhan spent his weekend gaming with his nose deep in his laptop. But Jiseok had a whole ride. He went to one of Seungmin’s parties, explored the city by himself and almost got scammed on the street— Nothing a pretty smile couldn’t fix. The pins in that girl’s backpack and lunchbag lingered in his head those two days. He figured he should—must, be her friend. She liked the same bands and the same anime, she was sitting by herself but the chair beside was empty, like a giant sign for him to fill up that space. He liked Oh Seungmin, he was a cool guy, the problem was his friend group, and also, Jiseok felt drawn to Junha anyways. What was it that kept her quiet, so deep in thought all the time? He wondered what went on in her head, and what other anime she may like. So he made his decision. He has to be her friend.
Over the next few weeks, a routine established itself that kept Junhan’s brain running a thousand miles an hour, trapped in an endless cycle of intense relief and absolute torture.
During classes, Jiseok sat in the middle row next to Seungmin. Junhan watched him from the very back, his cheek pressed flat against his crossed arms. He watched him laugh at the other guys’s jokes and playfully hit Seungmin on the back as he did. Jiseok fit perfectly and effortlessly into the world Junhan had always longed to be in. Watching him there fueled the constant, burning envy in Junhan's chest. He belongs there. The thought had him feeling the tight uniform bow choking him just a little more.
The lunchtime bell rang again. Jiseok rejected the popular crowd’s invitations with a bright wave, like he had been doing so ever since he joined the school two and a half months ago. He walked straight to the back row.
Jiseok turned out to be, unexpectedly, an incredibly stubborn boy. He didn’t care that Junha barely spoke in short whispers or small nods. Maybe he didn’t know that Junha wanted him to leave, or maybe he noticed and ignored it either way.
“You won’t believe what happened to me this morning!” Jiseok would say most of the time, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. “I got on the wrong subway train again.” He said today.
Junhan would only give a tiny nod, his eyes fixed on his food, but inside his head, everything was a mess. Jiseok’s proximity was overwhelming, but as the days bled into weeks, the toxic venom of envy slowly started to fade away, and having lunch with Jiseok turned into a routine.
Junhan didn’t know if Jiseok was like that because he’s from the countryside, or because he was born like it. Either way, it made his walls crumble down over the passing weeks. Jiseok didn’t soften his voice when he talked to him, he used the same bright, loud tone he used with Seungmin. When Junhan gave him small nods, he just took it as a sign of quiet understanding, instead of a girl’s shyness. Jiseok didn’t treat Junhan delicately or awkwardly politely. It was weird to think about it, but Junhan really liked the subtle, casual disrespect which Jiseok treated him with. He slouched, snorted, cursed and even hit him. He looked at Junhan’s pins instead of his shoes, at his eyes instead of his bow. Even if Jiseok thought he had been having lunch with a girl, he unknowingly ended up giving Junhan the exact type of brotherhood he had been longing for since years ago, in a little more than two months.
Jiseok was approaching their world of shared interests like a nerd to another, rather than to a boy trying to impress ‘the quiet girl’. Soon, Junhan couldn’t help but respond to him just as passionately about music or anime, momentarily forgetting how high or girly his voice could be, couldn’t help but feel comfortable with Jiseok and with himself during lunch period. And it only increased when Jiseok started calling him ‘Junnie’ Instead of ‘J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷’. Those 40 minutes from monday to friday, he forgot about his skirt and the bow around his neck. He was only a boy talking to his friend, sharing interests and song recommendations between wide smiles and gentle hits on the shoulder.
—
As said before, Jiseok had never been the type to keep things to himself, as if he was just physically unable to. He had told Jooyeon already about J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷, how she likes the same things as they do, and how he wishes the three of them could hang out.
At first, Jiseok maybe did see just a quiet girl sitting by herself, the empty chair beside her and the pins on her back a direct invitation for him to be her friend, but he quickly stopped seeing J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷ that way. Friendship was simple to Jiseok. They’re nice? Cool, he’d friend them up. They like the same things? Great, now they’d be bound for life. Oh Seungmin and his friends were fun people to go out with sometimes, gossiping maybe, and playing ball on the recess. But they didn’t get it. They didn’t get him. They didn’t get how a song could make his chest rush, or how a comic could make him cry. J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷— Junnie did get it. Even when Junnie only gave him tiny, reserved nods at first, Jiseok could see the spark in Junnie’s eyes. And lately, when Junnie started talking back, no matter if the voice was low and quiet, it was full of passion for their shared hobbies. It made Jiseok feel happy. He honestly didn’t care if Junnie sometimes eyed him weird when he did weird things or acted silly. Junnie was his twin. His safe place to be himself and to talk about what he loved because Junnie would always get it.
The smell of food greeted Jiseok once he left his backpack on the floor when he came back from school. He stepped foot into the warmly lit kitchen, greeting his mom with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“I remembered to take the right subway train today mom!” Jiseok chuckled, leaning over her shoulder to steal a piece from the cucumbers she was cutting.
His mom swatted away his hand. “Wash your hands first, Jiseokkie.” She said fondly. “How was school today? Did you eat properly?"
“Mhm!” He nodded. “I’ve been having lunch with J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷, the girl I told you about, the one with the linkin park pins.” A bright, wide smile appeared across his face. “She’s super cool, she has the best taste. She likes the same things as me and the new things she showed me are really good too.”
Jiseok’s mom’s chopping slowed down as he listened to him, and a soft smile spread on her lips. Her gaze became warmer and curious in the slightest. “Aah, I see, Jiseokkie.” She turned her head to look at him before she looked back down and kept cutting the vegetables up. “What about Seungmin, the other friend you told me about? You told me he was really nice and told you to sit beside him on your first day, don’t you hang out with him anymore?”
“Of course I do! He’s awesome.” Jiseok explained happily. “We mess around during breaks and talk in class constantly. But at lunchtime, well, Seungmin has a massive group of friends and they’re cool too, but usually they just talk about girls and sports. I have so much more fun talking with Junnie. I’m glad I'm sitting with her during lunch.”
His mother turned around slowly, leaning against the counter and towards him with a sly, knowing smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Aah, I see.” She murmured, her tone dripping with a subtle implication. “You reject the popular boys just to sit in a quiet corner with a girl... because of ‘music’. You must really like this girl’s company.”
Jiseok blinked, his round eyes widening in confusion. It took his brain a few seconds to process what his mother was implying, and when it finally clicked, a bright red flush instantly shot up from his collar to the tips of his ears.
”M-Mom! No! It’s not like that at all!”Jiseok barked, his voice cracking slightly as he straightened up. “Junnie is my friend! It’s not romantic at all! Like me and Jooyeon and Gunil back home. I don’t look at her like that!”
His mother laughed at his reaction, amused by how easily she had rattled her usually unbothered son. “Alright, alright, I believe you! You don’t have to yell.” She smiled warmly, shaking her head. “If she’s such a good friend, you should invite her over someday.”
“That’s actually a really good idea.” Jiseok muttered, his blush fading into his usual bright expression. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin returning to his face. “I’ll ask her. Someday. I don’t know if it'll be soon though, she still seems a little shy.”
—
A similar scenario happened at Junhan’s house the next week. Junhan had just come back home from the library after studying, he let his bag on the hanger and walked towards his room, glancing at his mother on the living room while he paced.
“I’m home.” He said, peeking into the living room and then turning with the intention to leave and jump to his bed.
“J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷!” She calls with a gentle smile, patting the seat beside her. “Come here.” Junhan eyed at his room reluctantly and sat beside her. He didn’t dislike his mom, the opposite, actually. But he really was tired, and the thing he needed the least right now was to have a chat and listen to the name that didn’t belong to him. He sat beside her. “You seem happier lately, your skin and eyes seem brighter.” She said. The words didn’t really make sense to Junhan. He looked just as girly and alien in the mirror. “Your homeroom teacher called me about some stuff, and then he mentioned that you haven’t been having lunch by yourself anymore.” Junhan icked internally, cursing Mr. Younghyun in his mind. “He told me about a transfer student. How didn’t I hear of them before?” She said with a smile.
Junhan stiffened, the sudden mention of Jiseok made his stomach drop. “Uhm…” He hesitated, looking blankly into the wall. “His name is Jiseok, he transferred from the countryside.”
His mother leaned back with a smirk that made Junhan thoroughly uncomfortable. “Aah… A boy from the countryside.” She implicated. “Does he sit with you every single day?” It must be nice to have someone so attentive. Is he a… special friend, J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷?"
“No.” He said. His voice was flat, sharp, and lacking any fluster. “It’s not like that at all. Don’t say things like that.”
His mother blinked, visibly taken aback by the rigidness in J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷’s tone. “Oh, honey, I was just teasing you a little-”
“We just talk about music.” Junhan interrupted, his jaw tight. Inside his pockets, his fingers clenched into fists so hard his nails bit into his palms. “He likes rock, and I like rock. He doesn’t treat me like a… he doesn’t treat me differently. We’re just friends. Like two guys talking about bands. That’s all it is.”
‘Guys.’ The words were the tiniest slip of the truth, but his mom didn’t seem to overthink it.
The panic hammering against his ribs wasn’t his heart fluttering or butterflies in his stomach. The mere thought of his parents, or anyone else, framing his relationship with Jiseok as a romance made him feel sick. If Jiseok ever looked at him and saw a girl to be pursued, the precious 40 minutes of safety of their lunchtime would disappear. The casual disrespect, the loud laughter, the unpolished friendship Junhan had yearned for and that Jiseok unknowingly gifted him every day—it would all vanish. It would be replaced by the delicacy Junhan hated so much.
If Jiseok developed a crush on J̷u̷n̷h̷a̷, Junhan would lose his only friend, and he would be forced right back to choke behind his bow. He would rather die than to lose Jiseok’s playful jokes and silly behaviour.
“I see.” His mother said quietly. The playful light completely left her eyes as she realized the child’s discomfort, even if she didn’t really understand it. She offered a small, apologetic nod. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s good that you found a friend who shares your hobbies.”
“It’s fine.” Junhan whispered. “I’m going to go study.” He turned around, walked down the short hallway, and shut his bedroom door with an unintentional slam.
“I’m sorry!” He yelled from the inside.
