Chapter Text
Where it did end, or when it did start, Oh Seungmin didn’t know for sure. It just struck him on one cloudy evening back in early August, just a little while after the club activity ended that day.
•••
Seungmin shook his still-wet hair, the sharp smell of chlorine lingering on his skin as he unlocked his bicycle.
Beside him, Jungsu stood quietly, probably staring at the sky again. He had developed the habit ever since the school revised its facility hours after the budget cuts, pushing all after-school club activities into an earlier time slot. Before that, they had always left the school beneath a dark, cloudy sky.
Now, the evening was still bright, washed entirely in orange.
There was a different kind of wind that evening. The sun was shining at the end of the horizon. Jungsu stretched his arms upward, inhaling loudly, and sighed out his words all at once with no hesitation.
“I wish I can graduate at the same time as you, Seungmin.”
Their overlapped shadows that fell on the paving stones leading the gate were elongated, looked surreal and didn't belong there but did anyway.
For a while, it was silent, except for the buzz of the warm evening air enveloping them. The words rang loud inside Seungmin’s mind, piercing through thoughts about the upcoming swim tournament, the nearing deadline of his chemistry group project, and the fact that he was already 17 now, and in his last semester of being a 2nd year high school student.
Which meant, Kim Jungsu was in his last semester of being a high school student. He was now in his 3rd year of high school, about to graduate in a few months.
Sometimes Kim Jungsu appeared to be someone so mundane and deeply-rooted in Seungmin’s routine, but there were times where Seungmin was aware that his present would never be as continuous as he wanted to be.
This, was one of many occasions that proved that.
It reminded him. Halfway through June, 2 months ago, he had turned 17, then 15 days later, Jungsu turned 18.
Seungmin always thought that there was something strange about Jungsu being 18. He felt like the only thing that made sense, whether for Jungsu or him, was to keep going back and forth between 16 and 17. After 16 would come 17, and after 17, 16, of course. But eventually, Kim Jungsu turned 18. And in the same June, Oh Seungmin turned 17.
This realization struck first before anything else did.
There was just no going back to that brief two weeks where they were both 17, met in the middle.
He stood up then, putting the lock of his bicycle into the front pocket of his messenger back. He rolled up the sleeve of his gym jacket and tied his still damp overgrown hair into a small pony tail, feeling a bit too hot all of sudden. The breeze was a nice feeling on his exposed nape, and it was after that he finally turned to look at his upperclassman.
“That’s silly, hyung,” he remarked, giggling, “If you want us to graduate together, you’ll have to fail this grade.”
To his quiet laugh, Jungsu only sent him a small frown. But Seungmin did not care. He only swung his leg and took a seat on his bicycle.
“I didn’t mean it literally, of course,” Jungsu said in defense, hopping on the back seat, adjusting and putting both of his feet on the extra foot stands. “I just wanted to say that I’ll definitely miss you once I graduate and leave for college, Seungmin.”
Seungmin noted that his right leg still carried that stiffness of being in cast for weeks, and that Jungsu still winced from time to time, so Seungmin caressed his bad knee lightly to acknowledge it and to lessen the pain. Then a second later he took his hand away as if it burned, and asked if Jungsu was ready to go.
The boy only hummed. “Min-ah, will you miss me too?”
Seungmin took a second to ponder about it.
He remembered Jungsu saying that once he graduated high school, his family would move away with him closer to the capital since they wanted to enroll his sister to another school anyway. He also remembered the exact feeling when it dawned to him that Jungsu would probably never go back to this place ever again. His family had always been his anchor. If they also moved, this town would just be another pier they left behind. And after that, he imagined how their goodbye would be.
Seungmin took a deep breath. “Maybe. I haven’t thought about it yet. Maybe I’ll let you know when you leave this town later.”
Jungsu huffed, then he settled both his hands on Seungmin’s waist to steady himself when he finally pedaled away from the parking lot. The fabric of his jacket scrunched in between his fingers.
The first time it happened, it was only a brush against his side and Seungmin had nearly lost control of the bicycle. The second time, he had snapped at Jungsu to hold on properly after the older boy stubbornly insisted he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and could keep his balance on his own yet ended up slipping off the rack during a turn.
Since then, it had become an unspoken rule for Jungsu to hold onto his waist like that.
“You don’t seem like it, but you’re really sweet, Seungmin-ah,” Jungsu said after some time, as they passed through the school gate and onto the broad street that stretched across town, lined with familiar shops and rows of aging trees.
He giggled. “A total tsundere.”
Seungmin fixed his hold on the handlebar and pressed his lips into a thin line, almost like a pout, face burning, suddenly hyperaware of the hands that slowly circled around his waist.
A few weeks ago, Kim Jungsu, an upperclassman from class 3-1, injured his leg after falling from the second floor of his house and landing in the bushes below. For a while, he had to wear a cast on his right leg and rely on crutches to get around. Since the cast made it impossible for him to wear the standard uniform shoes, the school granted him permission to come in slippers instead.
The injury also meant he could no longer climb stairs, so class 3-1 was temporarily moved to a classroom on the first floor—right next to Seungmin's class, 2-3.
Upperclassmen were often loud, taking over the corridor as though it belonged to them, and lining up against the walls and teasing their juniors like a pack of hyenas. Seungmin found himself resenting the relocation despite having Jungsu closer. He especially disliked the delinquent-looking friends who always seemed to gather around Jungsu. Secretly, irrationally, he was worried they might somehow rub off on him and turn him into someone who was... not Jungsu.
Still, Kim Jungsu remained the same despite everything.
Smart, sweet, and everything that was charming.
By now, Jungsu no longer carried crutches. Partly because he had recovered enough to manage without them, and partly because he hated the attention they attracted. His leg, however, had not healed enough for him to walk long distances or ride a bicycle home. For a time, his mother picked him up after school every day.
That arrangement lasted barely a week before Seungmin, who happened to live only a few houses away, quietly suggested a different solution.
”I can take you home,” he had said back then. ”We're neighbors anyway.”
And just like that, it became routine for Jungsu to climb onto the back of Seungmin's bicycle every afternoon.
Maybe Jungsu was right. Maybe he was indeed a total tsundere. Seungmin knew too well that his attempt to keep his aloof front was overshadowed by his caring nature. That was also why he switched his backpack to a messenger bag despite everything, right? Just so Jungsu would have a bigger space behind him.
Now, the road home was so familiar that Seungmin barely needed to think about it anymore.
They set off down the road that cut through town, passing the stationery shop, the bus stop, and the old bakery that always smelled faintly of butter even from across the street. The railway crossing sat roughly halfway between the school and their neighborhood. It was one of those places everyone in town passed through eventually, whether on foot or by bicycle.
As they approached it, the warning bell suddenly rang out. The striped gates began to lower.
Seungmin slowed his bicycle to a stop and planted one foot on the ground. Behind him, Jungsu shifted slightly on the rear rack to ease the weight.
His mind drifted away, thinking about the club activity that had ended nearly half an hour ago.
Jungsu no longer participated in his cooking club activity, having taken a break to focus on entrance exams and cram school. Sometimes he went home early because of that. But still, he showed up often enough at the indoor swimming pool area whenever it was time for the swim club activity. Sometimes he sat on the bleachers with his textbooks. Sometimes he timed their laps. Sometimes he simply watched.
Today, he stayed until the very end again.
“Hyung, don't you have cram school today?” he asked.
“I do.”
Seungmin frowned. “Then why were you still at the pool? If you were waiting for me to take you to cram school you should’ve just asked Gunil-hyung. He doesn’t have any activity today.”
Jungsu only hummed. “I just wanted to.”
Seungmin waited for an explanation that never came, listening as the warning alarm continued to blare around them. A moment later, the train appeared around the bend. It thundered past them in a blur of silver and light. The ground trembled beneath Seungmin's shoes.
Jungsu was talking, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of the passing train. Seungmin could only catch fragments of something about graduation, then college—soon.
“You're really worried about me, huh?” Jungsu yelled near his ears, and those were the only words that landed strangely clear in his ears.
His hold on the handlebars tightened, and he held back the urge to turn around and confess everything to Kim Jungsu.
Of course, he was worried.
He always made sure Jungsu was seated comfortably before moving the bicycle. He carried his bag whenever the older boy's leg hurt. He checked the weather forecast because rain made the roads slippery. He memorized the days of Jungsu's mock exams. He adjusted his pace whenever they walked together.
He worried.
Oh Seungmin strongly believed everyone has their own personal theme in their life.
There were other elements of course—since humans’ life couldn’t be measured by a single concept no matter how large they might be—but time and again, everyone returned to things they fascinated the most, the things that intrigued them, the things they couldn't quite tear themselves away from, themes of their lives.
To him, it has always been to worry. That was the main theme of Oh Seungmin.
Now, the rest of Jungsu’s words vanished beneath the noise. His gaze followed the train instead, watching as car after car rushed past and moving forward—leaving.
And suddenly, belatedly, and painfully—he understood. The reason he was overly worried for the boy. The reason he memorized his schedule without meaning to and the reason he never minded taking the longer route home. Seungmin knew what it meant, feeling as though he was in that moment in a movie where everything magnified into one single thing, where time seemed to stop and his brain just went blank for a split second before everything—heartbeats and synapses—soared like crazy.
The realization dawned the same time his next thought occurred to him. A more painful realization and possibly, another heartbreak in the making.
The train's final carriage flashed past. Seungmin watched it become smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a distant shape against the horizon.
The crossing gates began to rise.
Around him, the town remained exactly as it had always been. And for the first time, Seungmin felt as though he had been left behind before Jungsu had even gone.
“Yes, I’m worried, Jungsu-hyung.”
It was a confession, in a way. He hoped Jungsu didn’t realize this.
•••
It was August and November and then it was March.
The cast was long gone. And the crutches too.
Kim Jungsu had returned to class 3-1 on the third floor months ago, and nowadays he bounded up and down the stairs with such ease that it was difficult to remember there had ever been a time when he couldn't walk. Now, he could cycle on his own, and Seungmin found himself relieved that they could cycle together again on days their schedule aligned and they could go home together.
And unfortunately, his feelings persisted despite everything. He could blame it on proximity—on spending nearly every day cycling home with Kim Jungsu, on Jungsu pestering him outside of school, showing up at his house unannounced just to study in his room, or even him purposely seeking him out for no reason at school.
He could blame it on how often they were together, on how impossible it was not to grow attached. But that excuse only worked if he hadn't been the one allowing it to happen in the first place.
•••
Later on that evening, Seungmin once again found himself stuck in the routine of cycling back home with Jungsu.
On the way home, the scenery changed soon after they took a turn to a smaller street that was bordered with two story houses. Here, the street was built on a hill. It was getting harder to cycle this way. So usually, they’d get down and walk their bicycle until they were close to the intersection where they had to part ways.
For a moment, time stopped for both of them.
His brain couldn't seem to process everything.
As he went higher on the hill, there was an annoying constant tinnitus in his ears. He probably imagined it. But if he was truly imagining it, he hoped the rest of the factors that shaped the atmosphere—the howling of the wind, the roughness of the bike handle in his grips, unsaid feelings and ultimately, Kim Jungsu—were real.
Now, the breeze gradually turned into a song Seungmin knew.
It got louder inside his head, and Seungmin tried his best to capture this exact moment; of Jungsu walking beside him, a bicycle apart and into the same direction. The earth could start to crumble and the heaven could roll away right now and still, the only dilemma he had would be him, struggling to exist with and without Kim Jungsu.
So he just stayed quiet the whole ride, occasionally eyeing Jungsu beside him with his bicycle, thinking of the impending heartbreak.
At one point, Jungsu seemed to be reminded of something. Seungmin watched as he rummaged through his backpack before he pulled out a neatly tied cellophane bag containing a small cake or sort.
The older boy held it out for him. “Here. For you, Min-ah.”
Seungmin stared at the red ribbon on top of the plastic bag then back to Jungsu’s face, half illuminated by the orange sunset, then smiled, a bit confused, but red had begun to adorn his cheeks. His steps halted, the wheel of his bicycle screeching lightly against the road.
“Hyung, what is this?” he asked, still not taking it from Jungsu’s hand. Apprehensive, for some reason. Lately, everything Jungsu did always carried the weight of goodbye, it scared him.
Jungsu grinned. “Canelé. I made it last night.”
Silently, he took the gift, fingers brushing against Jungsu’s warm palm for a brief second. The cake was no bigger than a muffin, but it seemed to be dense by the solid weight of it, the surface of it shiny and brown. It looked pretty—unlike some of the pastries and cakes Jungsu attempted back in the first semester, when he was still active in the cooking club. Back then, Jungsu always went straight to the swimming pool right after he finished his club activity with Jiseok tagging along, leaning down on the edge of the pool to hand-fed Seungmin in between laps before getting chased away by his coach for disrupting the practice, and only then they’d run away with an empty container in his hand, all giggly.
Back then, even if Jungsu gave him the burnt part of the pastry, Seungmin would still eat it happily. Nevermind that those pastries were bitter. It had always been about making Jungsu feel better and encouraging him to bake more because he knew it was his passion all along—despite what his parents say, and what the teacher hoped.
It had always been about making him smile, because Kim Jungsu was the prettiest when he smiled.
“What’s the occasion?"
Jungsu’s smile was different this time, and Seungmin found himself questioning if there was something wrong. Kim Jungsu still looked the prettiest, but beneath, he looked sad as well.
The air shifted, the breeze going louder, blowing the white paperbark trees lining the street before it settled then silenced again. They stood two meters apart, only separated by Jungsu’s bicycle, the handle held by his whitening knuckles. When Oh Seungmin imagined Kim Jungsu, he always imagined him with a suitcase, always the one leaving first.
“Min-ah,” Jungsu said finally, and Seungmin recognized the weight of the answer on the tip of his tongue.
“I think my family and I will be moving away a lot faster than we initially planned.”
For a moment, Seungmin forgot how to breathe. The canelé suddenly felt heavier in his hand.
Oh.
That was all he managed.
He had known this was coming. Ever since the acceptance letter, ever since Jungsu had started cleaning out his desk and asking if Seungmin wanted to have his textbooks, and bringing him little gifts for no reason, lingering after school just a little longer than usual.
Seungmin had known.
He had simply convinced himself there was still time.
A few more weeks, perhaps. Another month if he was lucky until his tournament day. Enough afternoons to pretend they were ordinary and enough evenings to gather the courage to confess, or enough to convince himself he never would and that was alright in its entirety.
“When?”
“The paperwork went through this morning,” Jungsu continued carefully. “My dad—he… he wants to leave before the end of the month.”
End of the month. That was barely two weeks.
“I’ve talked to the school counselors and they’ve granted me early dismissal.”
Something ugly bloomed inside Seungmin before he could stop it.
The feeling came instinctively, followed almost immediately by shame. Huh? What right did he have to feel that way? This was everything Jungsu had wanted. Seungmin should have been happy for him. Instead, all he could think was that he hadn't had enough.
“Seungmin?”
Now, he realized he'd been staring at the asphalt road.
“I…” His voice cracked. He couldn't do this. Not while Jungsu was looking at him like that. Seungmin forced a smile that hurt more than it helped. “That's... that's great, hyung.”
It sounded wrong the moment it left his mouth.
Before Jungsu could answer, Seungmin mounted his bicycle so abruptly the pedals slipped beneath his foot.
“I just remembered I left something on my desk. I think I have to go back.”
He didn't wait for a response. He pushed off and turned his bicycle around, wheels wobbling before finding their balance, and pedaled downhill as though distance alone could outrun the tightness in his chest.
Behind him, he thought he heard his name; always in that sweet tone despite everything.
It took every fiber muscle in his body not to stop and turn around. If he did, Seungmin knew he would ask Jungsu to stay and get his heart broken knowing too well it was impossible.
And as he reached nowhere—feeling guilty, melancholy, and humiliation—Seungmin came to realize that coming-of-age movies were stupid.
This grief was anticipatory and he didn’t grow around it. Being 17 was not about drinking and going to parties every night. It wasn't about being a rebel and doing vandalism. And not even about love and friendships and dream-like sunny days. Being 17, in his case, was about spending time holding his hands in tightly hidden fists, and to always feel ashamed at being witnessed in the act of wanting something he clearly could not have.