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1.
Humin can eat a lot.
The first skill or perhaps strange talent that Baekjin learned about Humin was the fact that Humin could eat a ridiculous amount of food without ever seeming to feel full.
When did he learn that?
Hm.
It had been years ago, when—
---
“Jinnie, come on! Baekjin-a!”
Baekjin hurried after Humin, who was already several steps ahead of him and waving impatiently for him to follow.
“I’m coming, Humin! Wait for me—”
Humin had told him earlier that he was going to take him to a small fried chicken restaurant after school.
Baekjin didn’t really know what to expect. He had never been to a restaurant before.
That was probably one of those things that came naturally with being an orphan and not having much money of his own. When Baekjin had a little spending money, there was always a noticeable difference between buying something cheap from a convenience store and spending several times that amount on a meal at a restaurant.
So restaurants simply weren’t something he thought about very often.
He only agreed to go because Humin had proudly announced that he would treat him.
And, if Baekjin was being completely truthful with himself, he was curious.
He wanted to know what it felt like to sit inside a restaurant and order food like everyone else did.
They were around the same height at the time, yet somehow Humin could walk much faster than him despite carrying a schoolbag that looked just as heavy as Baekjin’s.
Baekjin had discovered fairly quickly that Humin was stronger than him.
Not necessarily in every possible way, but physically?
Absolutely.
They both carried bags full of textbooks, notebooks, pencil cases and whatever else the school decided students needed to drag around every day, yet Humin walked as though his bag weighed almost nothing.
Baekjin occasionally wondered whether Humin had bricks for muscles hidden underneath his uniform.
After walking for several minutes, they finally stopped in front of a small fried chicken restaurant.
It looked exactly like what Baekjin imagined a neighborhood chicken restaurant should look like.
Nothing fancy, nothing elegant.
There were several small tables inside, warm yellow lights, handwritten signs near the counter, and the unmistakable smell of fried food drifting through the doorway whenever someone entered or left.
Humin looked strangely excited.
Baekjin was excited too, although his excitement came with nervousness.
He had never done this before. What was he supposed to do? Did they sit first?
Order first?
Would Humin laugh if Baekjin asked?
Probably not.
Humin would tease him, certainly, but that was different.
When they walked inside, Baekjin immediately noticed that the atmosphere felt unfamiliar. There were families at a few tables, some older students laughing loudly near the wall, and two men eating while talking over each other.
The restaurant was about half full. They managed to find a table quickly.
Baekjin sat down carefully and stared toward the menu.
There were too many things written on it.
“What should I order?”
He asked loudly enough for Humin to hear over the chatter around them.
Humin grinned.
“Fried chicken is the best! I’ll order for both of us.”
Fried chicken, huh?
Baekjin smiled slightly.
He suddenly remembered one of their English lessons.
Their teacher had gone around the classroom asking everyone what their favorite food was.
When it was Humin’s turn, Humin had proudly announced, in loud and slightly awkward English,
“Fried chicken!”
The teacher had stared at him for several seconds before continuing the lesson.
Apparently Humin had been completely serious.
Humin stood up and walked toward the register.
Then he walked straight past it.
Baekjin blinked.
Where was he going?
For several seconds Baekjin genuinely wondered whether Humin was planning to sneak into the kitchen and steal their food.
Then Humin stopped beside a man standing near the kitchen entrance.
They started talking.
Baekjin couldn’t hear most of what they were saying because of the conversations around him, but he could see Humin’s expression changing.
Humin crossed his arms.
Then he pouted. Actually pouted.
The older man looked increasingly annoyed.
Baekjin leaned slightly forward.
Was Humin getting kicked out?
Apparently not.
The man sighed heavily.
Humin immediately brightened and turned toward Baekjin with a victorious grin.
He raised one hand.
Thumbs up.
Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Baekjin stared after him.
What exactly had just happened?
About fifteen minutes later, Humin finally returned.
Baekjin’s eyes widened.
Humin was carrying two enormous plates piled with fried chicken.
Not normal plates, huge plates. And there was far more chicken than Baekjin had expected.
Baekjin stared at the food.
Then at Humin.
Then back at the food.
How were two people supposed to eat all of that?
Humin, apparently seeing absolutely nothing strange about this, started dividing the pieces between them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four "Wait.” Baekjin stopped him.
Humin looked at him.
“What?”
“I can’t eat that much.”
Humin looked at Baekjin’s plate.
Then at Baekjin.
“That’s not a lot.”
“It is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Humin.”
Baekjin knew himself.
If Humin continued piling chicken onto his plate, Baekjin was reasonably certain he would eventually throw up all over the table.
Humin laughed and finally stopped.
“Fine, fine. Weak stomach.”
Baekjin narrowed his eyes.
“Normal stomach.”
“Sure.”
Humin sat opposite him.
They started eating.
And it was good.
The outside was crisp, the meat inside was warm and tender, and Baekjin found himself eating more enthusiastically than he had expected.
He was halfway through one piece when he noticed Humin.
There were already bones from about five pieces sitting on Humin’s side of the table.
Baekjin stared.
Maybe he had counted wrong.
He watched Humin finish another.
Then Humin reached for more.
Baekjin finally spoke.
“You’re not full yet?”
He wasn’t even worried about the money anymore. At this point he was worried about Humin’s stomach.
The amount of food they had received looked bigger than an ordinary adult portion, never mind something intended for two schoolboys.
And yet Humin was casually starting another serving.
“Not at all!”
Humin said it cheerfully. Baekjin stared at him. Apparently Humin’s stomach was stronger than his head.
“You’re going to get fat.”
“Nah.”
Humin waved him off.
“I’ll burn the calories playing basketball.”
Baekjin rolled his eyes.
Of course that was his answer.
They continued eating for a little while before Humin suddenly looked at him.
“How does it taste?”
Baekjin blinked.
“Huh?”
“The chicken. How does it taste?”
“Good.”
Baekjin wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say.
It was chicken.
Good chicken.
Apparently that was more than enough for Humin because his entire expression brightened.
“I knew it!”
“Knew what?”
“How could my best friend not like fried chicken made by me?”
Baekjin froze.
“Made by you?”
So Humin really had been inside the kitchen making it?
Then—
Did Humin work here? But that didn’t make sense. At their age, Baekjin was fairly certain Humin shouldn’t even be working that kind of part-time job.
“It’s also my first time bringing a friend here.”
Humin’s voice changed slightly when he said it. It became softer, almost shy.
Baekjin felt warmth creep into his cheeks.
Probably because of the hot food.
Obviously.
“Do you work here?”
Baekjin asked.
Humin looked horrified.
“No! I don’t.”
“Then why were you in the kitchen?”
“My dad owns this place.”
Humin pointed vaguely toward the back.
“So I can eat here whenever I want. The annoying part is that Dad makes me help out sometimes, but whatever.”
Baekjin paused.
Oh.
So that man had been Humin’s father. Baekjin had never seen him before.
Not at school.
Not during parent meetings.
Not when other parents came to speak with teachers.
Baekjin himself never had anyone attend those meetings because there was nobody to come.
But Humin did have a father.
Apparently, his father simply didn’t attend.
Baekjin already knew that Humin didn’t have the best relationship with him.
Humin rarely spoke about his family seriously, but Baekjin had slowly pieced together enough.
Humin’s parents were divorced.
His mother had left.
From what Baekjin understood, she was no longer involved in Humin’s life.
Humin remained with his father.
And apparently his father owned a chicken restaurant.
That explained several things.
Especially Humin’s suspiciously passionate love for fried chicken.
But what stayed in Baekjin’s mind the longest wasn’t the food. It wasn’t discovering Humin’s father. It wasn’t even discovering the seemingly bottomless pit that existed where Humin’s stomach should have been.
It was one sentence.
"It’s also my first time bringing a friend here."
Baekjin was the first.
Humin could have brought anyone.
A classmate.
A teammate.
Someone from basketball
But he had brought Baekjin.
For some reason, the thought warmed Baekjin more than the freshly fried chicken ever could.
Baekjin was the first person Humin had wanted to bring into this small part of his life.
And Baekjin remembered that.
For years afterward, he remembered it.
---
2.
Humin gives the best hugs.
It was something Baekjin felt like he had somehow always known.
Even before experiencing one himself, Humin simply looked like the type of person who would give warm hugs.
Strong ones.
The kind that didn’t feel half-hearted.
Back when they went to school together, Baekjin eventually received plenty of them.
But the first one?
He wasn’t completely sure anymore when the first one had happened.
It had been sudden. Completely random.
At least from Baekjin’s point of view.
---
Humin had received another bad grade in math.
He stared at the paper as though the numbers printed on it had personally betrayed him.
“Why is this so hard?”
Humin groaned dramatically.
“Who is supposed to understand this? I’m too dumb for this!”
Baekjin frowned.
He disliked hearing Humin speak about himself like that. It wasn’t entirely surprising, though.
Humin had told him before that his father became angry whenever his grades dropped too much.
Not all of Humin’s grades were bad.
Most were average.
Some were actually pretty decent when Humin bothered studying for them.
But math?
Math was Humin’s enemy.
And Humin was currently losing the war.
The timing made it worse.
The following week there was going to be a school sports trip. Only students who met certain requirements could attend. They couldn’t have too many absences. And they couldn’t be failing any classes.
Right now, math was the one subject threatening Humin’s chance of going.
So Baekjin offered to tutor him.
Humin blinked.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“But…”
Humin looked back at his paper.
“I’m not sure it’s worth it. What if you tutor me and I still fail? I’m dumb, so it wouldn’t exactly be surprising.”
His voice became quieter near the end.
His eyes looked suspiciously shiny.
Baekjin immediately disliked that expression.
“Humin.”
He waited until Humin looked at him.
“You’re not dumb.”
Humin didn’t respond.
“You’re pretty smart in your own way.”
“In my own way sounds like something teachers say when they think someone is stupid.”
Baekjin sighed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?”
“You’re good at things I’m not good at. And you understand plenty of things. You just don’t understand math very well.”
“That sounds better.”
“Study with me.”
Baekjin tapped the edge of Humin’s paper.
“I’m sure you can get at least a B.”
Humin looked doubtful.
A B probably sounded like Baekjin promising him a miracle.
But eventually he nodded.
“Fine.”
---
That afternoon, Humin was already halfway toward the basketball court when a hand caught his wrist.
He stopped.
“What?”
Baekjin stared at him.
“Humin-a.”
That tone made Humin immediately suspicious.
“Did you forget something?”
Humin blinked.
Then understanding appeared on his face.
Followed immediately by horror.
“Ah.”
“We have to study.”
“But basketball—”
“How else are you going to ace your next exam?”
Baekjin already had several types of questions in mind.
He had spent part of lunch deciding what Humin struggled with most and which examples they should practice first.
“Can’t we do it tomorrow?”
Humin tried.
There was even a slight pout on his face.
Unfortunately for him, Baekjin had already decided.
They were both stubborn.
Extremely stubborn.
Whenever they disagreed, winning usually depended on which one of them cared more about the particular argument.
This time, Baekjin cared more.
“No. We study today.”
Humin groaned.
“And tomorrow.”
Humin looked betrayed.
“Today and tomorrow?!”
“Yes.”
“No way! My brain won’t survive that much math!”
“It won’t be that difficult.”
At least Baekjin didn’t think it would.
“Fine!”
Humin clearly wasn’t happy about it.
But he allowed Baekjin to drag him toward the library anyway. It took approximately one hour before Humin broke.
“I don’t understand this at all!” Humin dropped his pencil.
“I’m going to fail math forever!”
He buried his face underneath his crossed arms and books.
Baekjin stared at him.
“Humin.”
No response.
“Humin.”
A muffled groan.
“Don’t give up so quickly.”
“I’ve been doing math for an entire year.”
“One hour.”
“Same thing.”
Baekjin almost smiled. Instead, he moved closer.
“This time you tried the problem on your own. That’s good.”
“It’s wrong.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does when it’s a test.”
“It isn’t a test right now.”
Baekjin reached toward him and gently ran his fingers through Humin’s hair. It wasn’t something he had planned.
He simply did it.
His fingers moved slowly over Humin’s scalp. Humin became noticeably quieter.
“Now we’ll finish the question together, alright?”
Humin lifted his head slightly.
“Don’t be afraid to ask me questions. If you don’t understand why we’re doing something, ask. If you don’t understand how I got an answer, ask.”
Humin stared at him for another few seconds.
“Alright.”
And they moved on to the next question.
Then another.
And another.
---
The exam came.
Then several days later, their teacher returned the papers.
Baekjin already knew something good had happened before he even saw Humin’s grade.
Because Humin screamed.
“Yes!”
Half the classroom turned toward him.
Humin was holding his exam above his head like a championship trophy.
The teacher looked irritated.
But she didn’t scold him nearly as much as Baekjin expected.
Perhaps because this was probably the best math grade she had ever seen from Humin. Perhaps because she was too shocked to react.
Or perhaps because she had already checked carefully enough to know he hadn’t cheated.
88%.
Baekjin had received 100%.
But that wasn’t important.
Not right now.
He watched Humin staring at his paper with an enormous smile across his face.
Baekjin felt something almost like pride swelling in his chest.
Humin had done it. He hadn’t barely passed either.
For Humin, eighty-eight percent was incredible.
The teacher eventually shushed him.
Humin obediently sat down.
Well—
As obediently as Humin could.
He sat in his chair while continuing to grin so widely that Baekjin wondered whether his cheeks hurt.
After class, Baekjin slowly packed his books into his bag.
When he looked up, Humin was waiting for him.
Students passed around them.
Baekjin zipped his bag closed and pulled it onto his shoulder.
Then suddenly—
Impact.
Baekjin stumbled backward half a step.
Not because Humin had attacked him.
Because Humin had wrapped both arms around him.
Tightly, very tightly.
“Humin—”
Baekjin froze.
Humin’s arms were around his body, squeezing him hard enough that Baekjin could feel the strength in them.
It almost felt like being crushed.
But strangely… It wasn’t unpleasant. Baekjin didn’t push him away.
Instead, after several awkward seconds, he slowly lifted his arms and placed them around Humin’s shoulders.
He wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this.
He hadn’t been hugged often as a child.
The woman who had looked after them at the orphanage had hugged him sometimes.
Usually when he was very young.
Or upset.
But even those moments had become increasingly rare as he got older.
Baekjin simply wasn’t used to people grabbing him because they were happy he existed.
Humin finally let go.
Too soon.
Baekjin would never admit that thought aloud.
Humin stepped half a pace backward as though giving him space. Baekjin didn’t need the space.
“Thank you.”
Humin smiled.
His eyes were bright, warm, and completely sincere.
Baekjin looked at him.
And somewhere inside his head, he thought,
'No.'
'I should be thanking you.'
For trusting him enough to ask for help, for smiling at him like that, giving him this expression to remember.
For allowing him to see Humin this happy.
Baekjin kept that thought to himself.
---
There were more hugs after that.
When their team won a match during the school sports trip, Humin came charging toward him before Baekjin could prepare himself.
“Humin—!”
Humin grabbed him around the waist.
And lifted him.
Completely off the ground.
Baekjin’s feet actually left the floor.
“Humin!”
“We won!”
“I noticed!”
Humin laughed while Baekjin grabbed his shoulders instinctively.
“Put me down!”
"Why?”
“Humin!”
Humin eventually did.
But not before spinning once with Baekjin still in his arms.
Baekjin complained.
Of course he complained.
But he understood something.
Humin really did give the best hugs.
Warm, strong, certain.
Humin never hugged someone as though he was debating whether he wanted them there.
When Humin wrapped his arms around someone, that person knew they were wanted.
And Baekjin liked being wanted by him.
---
3.
Humin can carry an absurd number of things in one hand.
Baekjin had suspected for a long time that Humin was good at carrying things.
He was physically strong.
That much was obvious.
But there was apparently another skill involved.
Balance.
Baekjin discovered this after seeing Humin somehow carrying a schoolbag, his phone, a snack, his P.E. clothes and an umbrella with what appeared to be approximately three fingers.
It wasn’t as though everything was incredibly heavy.
But it certainly wasn’t light either.
And the bag alone should have required one hand.
Baekjin genuinely had no idea how Humin prevented everything from falling onto the floor.
---
“Where are you, Humin?”
Baekjin muttered to himself.
He stood in the school entrance hall beside the doors. Rain hammered against the windows. Of course it had started raining.
Neither of them had expected it.
Their last class had already ended, and because the holidays were about to begin, Humin needed to take his P.E. clothes home instead of leaving them rotting inside his locker for several weeks.
Humin had gone back to get them.
In his outdoor shoes.
Baekjin hoped neither the janitor nor one of the cleaners caught him.
Otherwise this would probably take considerably longer than Baekjin wanted.
He didn’t want to stay inside school any longer.
Especially because the rain showed no sign of stopping.
Baekjin didn’t have an umbrella.
He had checked the weather that morning.
No rain.
Apparently the weather forecast had lied.
Fortunately, Humin had discovered an old umbrella buried in his locker.
It had apparently been sitting there for months.
Baekjin had no idea why.
Knowing Humin, he had probably forgotten it existed.
“Here I am! Coming!”
Baekjin turned.
And stared.
Humin was rushing through the hallway.
His schoolbag was hanging from one finger.
One finger.
Baekjin had absolutely no idea how.
His phone was trapped between another finger and the side of the bag.
The folded umbrella hung from another.
A packaged snack was hooked between two fingers. His P.E. clothes were somehow wedged into the middle of everything.
And in his other hand?
His keys.
Baekjin watched Humin approach.
He was impressed, also confused.
“How are you carrying all that?”
Humin looked down.
“What?”
“That.”
“What about it?”
Baekjin stared at him.
Apparently Humin saw absolutely nothing unusual about balancing half his belongings on one hand.
“Here.”
Humin passed him the snack.
“For both of us.”
Baekjin took it.
At least that reduced the number of items Humin was performing circus tricks with.
Baekjin opened the wrapper.
He took a bite.
Then, because Humin was busy opening the umbrella, Baekjin held the snack toward him.
Humin leaned over and bit the other end.
Baekjin held still until Humin tore off a piece.
Humin finally opened the umbrella and swung his schoolbag properly over his shoulder.
“Ready?”
Baekjin nodded.
They stepped outside.
Rain immediately surrounded them with a steady roar.
Humin held the umbrella between them. Their shoulders remained pressed close enough together that neither would get soaked. At least that was supposedly the reason.
Baekjin took another bite of the snack.
Then held it toward Humin again. Humin leaned over without hesitation. They continued walking beneath the same umbrella, sharing the same snack while rain poured around them. Baekjin glanced once at Humin’s hand around the umbrella handle.
Then at the bag.
Then at the remaining P.E. clothes.
He still didn’t understand how Humin had carried everything before.
But apparently that was another thing to add to the list.
Humin was ridiculously good at carrying things.
---
4.
Humin knows sign language.
That was probably the most unexpected random fact Baekjin ever discovered about him.
Humin knew sign language.
Actual sign language.
Baekjin would never have guessed it.
Of course Humin spoke Korean.
His English was decent enough too, not perfect, but definitely not bad.
But another language?
Especially sign language?
Baekjin would have thought it impossible.
Not because Humin was stupid.
Baekjin hated when Humin called himself stupid.
But Humin wasn’t exactly the type of person Baekjin imagined voluntarily sitting down and quietly studying an entire language.
He only saw Humin use it once before discovering why he knew it.
---
They were walking together one afternoon.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing important.
Then Humin suddenly stopped.
Baekjin nearly walked into him.
“Humin?”
At first Baekjin didn’t understand why.
Then he heard voices, loud ones.
Coming from an alley.
There was a girl there.
Three boys had surrounded her.
One stood to her left.
One to her right.
The third stood directly in front of her.
They were laughing.
The girl wasn’t.
“Humin.”
Baekjin already knew what was about to happen.
Pretending otherwise would be pointless.
He knew Humin.
Humin had always possessed an annoyingly heroic personality. The first time they met properly had been because Humin interfered when Baekjin was being bullied.
They hadn’t even known each other.
Humin could have walked past.
Other people did.
Most avoided looking.
Some were probably afraid they would become the next target if they interfered.
Humin hadn’t cared.
He had stepped in.
And now?
Of course he was going to do it again.
“Hey!”
Humin shouted.
The sound echoed slightly through the alley.
Immediately, Humin seemed bigger somehow.
Not physically.
His entire presence changed.
The three boys turned.
One sneered, another looked slightly nervous. The one who appeared to be the leader looked more irritated than frightened.
“Just walk away.”
The boy grabbed the girl’s hair.
“Unless you want to be next.”
“Let her go.”
Humin’s voice was flat now.
“What?”
The boy laughed.
“She doesn’t mind, does she?”
Another boy pinched the girl’s ear.
She immediately raised both hands toward her head and flinched away.
“If she has a problem, she can say something, can’t she?”
The girl looked terrified. Confused too, but she still didn’t speak. Humin’s expression changed.
Baekjin recognized that look.
Those boys were in trouble.
“I’m pretty sure she already told you.”
The leader smirked.
“How? With her mouth?”
“No.”
Humin stepped closer.
“With her hands, bastard.”
Then Humin punched him.
The leader stumbled sideways and crashed into one of the others.
Both went down.
The third boy immediately tried to run. He made it approximately two steps.
Humin caught the back of his sleeve.
“Where are you going?”
Humin kicked him hard enough to send him stumbling forward.
Baekjin heard one of the boys mutter,
“What the hell…”
Several unpleasant minutes later, the situation looked very different.
The three boys were kneeling.
The girl stood nearby.
Humin stood in front of them with his arms crossed.
“Now apologize.”
“Why should we?!”
Humin stared at them.
A short while later—
“We’re sorry!”
“We’re sorry!”
“Sorry!”
The boys repeatedly apologized to the girl.
The girl looked awkward.
Humin smacked the back of one boy’s head.
“Sign it.”
The boy stared.
“What?”
“Sign your apology.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Humin sighed.
“Right. You’re too stupid to know how.”
“H—”
“So copy my hands.”
Humin raised them.
“You’re going to apologize properly.”
The boys continued staring.
“If you’re smart enough to bully a girl, you’re smart enough to learn one sentence. Understand?”
And then—
Humin started signing.
Baekjin’s mouth actually fell open.
What?
Humin moved his hands slowly enough for the boys to imitate.
Again.
Then again.
Correcting one of them when he moved his fingers incorrectly.
Eventually the girl nodded.
Only then did Humin allow the boys to leave.
“Get out of here.”
They didn’t need to be told twice.
They disappeared.
Humin immediately turned toward the girl.
And started signing again.
Baekjin stood several steps away and watched.
He had no idea what they were saying.
That irritated him slightly.
But he was also fascinated.
Humin was quiet.
Completely quiet.
Yet somehow he remained unmistakably Humin.
His eyebrows moved.
His expression changed.
His hands moved quickly and confidently.
He smiled.
The girl visibly relaxed.
It was strange seeing someone as loud as Humin communicate without making any sound at all.
Then—
They exchanged numbers. Baekjin narrowed his eyes. Why were they exchanging numbers, why did she need Humin’s number, Why did Humin need hers?
“Humin.”
No response.
“Humin.”
Humin looked at him.
“We should go.”
“Huh?”
“Otherwise we won’t be able to buy the ice cream.” That wasn’t entirely the reason Baekjin wanted to leave.
But Humin didn’t need to know that.
“Ah, shit, right!”
Humin quickly turned toward the girl.
“Well, see you!”
He signed something.
The girl smiled and signed back.
Then Humin rejoined Baekjin.
They walked for several minutes before Baekjin finally asked the question that had been sitting inside his head since the moment Humin first moved his hands.
“Since when do you know sign language?”
Humin looked at him.
“Eh?”
“You.”
Baekjin gestured vaguely toward his hands.
“Sign language.”
“Oh.”
Humin shrugged.
“I don’t know. Since I was a kid, I guess?”
Baekjin stared.
That raised even more questions.
“Was your mother deaf?”
Baekjin knew Humin’s father could hear. He didn’t know much about Humin’s mother, so that explanation would at least make sense.
“No.”
Humin shook his head.
“Not at all.”
“Then why?”
“My cousin.”
“Your cousin?”
“She’s deaf.”
Humin said it casually.
“When we were kids, she couldn’t understand me and I couldn’t understand her.”
Humin shoved his hands into his pockets.
“So I learned.”
Baekjin looked at him.
That was…actually extremely sweet. Humin had been a child, he had realized another child couldn’t communicate with him.
So instead of expecting her to find some way to understand him, Humin had learned her language.
Baekjin had also had no idea Humin even had a cousin.
But somehow that felt like the less important revelation.
“I never knew you could be so quiet.”
Humin stopped.
“What?”
“It’s strange.”
Baekjin glanced at him.
“You didn’t say anything for several minutes.”
Humin clicked his tongue.
“Aish. You missed my voice that much?”
“No.”
“You did.”
“No.”
Humin grinned.
“I can be quiet.”
“I’ve seen little evidence of that.”
“I can!”
“Apparently.”
“and I can be loud.”
“That part I already knew.” Humin nudged him with his shoulder.
“Depends on the company.”
Baekjin looked away before Humin could properly see his expression.
Quiet Humin.
Loud Humin.
It didn’t really matter.
Either way Humin sounded nice.
Even when he wasn’t making any sound at all.
---
5.
Humin kisses well.
“Humin… hyung?”
It was barely louder than a whisper.
Baekjin lay in a hospital bed, still dizzy enough that the room occasionally felt as though it were shifting around him.
For several seconds he wasn’t even certain the person sitting beside him was real.
Perhaps he was hallucinating.
Because Baekjin had been certain he was dead.
He remembered being beaten.
He remembered failing.
He remembered Mr. Choi giving the order.
Hands had tied him.
Then they had dragged him somewhere.
Baekjin still couldn’t remember exactly where.
There had been darkness.
Cold.
Then the sensation of falling.
Water had surrounded him.
It had filled his ears.
His nose, his mouth, his injured body barely responded when he tried to move.
The ropes made everything worse.
He remembered struggling.
Remembered trying desperately to breathe.
Remembered realizing that there was no air.
And somewhere during those last terrible seconds, Baekjin had genuinely accepted one thing.
'I’m going to die.'
Then—
Nothing.
Until now.
Until the hospital.
Until Humin.
Baekjin stared at him.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
His voice cracked.
Fear came back so quickly that it felt like someone had poured ice directly into his chest.
“He’ll find me.”
“Baekjin—”
“Humin, he’ll kill me!”
Baekjin tried to move. Pain immediately tore through him. Humin put one hand carefully on his shoulder.
The grip was gentle.
But firm.
“He won’t.”
Baekjin looked at him.
“He will.”
“He won’t.”
Humin said it with such certainty that Baekjin stopped for half a second.
“He’s been dealt with.”
Baekjin stared.
“What?”
“The police arrested them.”
Humin spoke calmly.
“They were taken to the police station. There’s evidence. A lot of it.”
Baekjin shook his head.
No.
That didn’t make sense.
Mr. Choi wasn’t some random street criminal.
He was dangerous.
Careful.
Connected.
He knew how to hide evidence.
He knew how to avoid consequences.
“They’ll release him.”
“No.”
“they will if they don’t have—”
Baekjin stopped.
Something about Humin looked wrong.
His eyes moved toward Humin’s shoulder.
Bandages.
“What’s that?”
Humin followed his gaze.
“Oh.”
'Oh?'
Humin looked back at him.
“A bullet grazed me.”
Baekjin’s heart nearly stopped.
“What?!”
He moved much too quickly. Instantly his entire body protested. Pain shot through his ribs, his shoulders and his stomach. His mouth felt dry and sore.
“Humin!”
“Hey, hey.”
Humin immediately leaned closer.
“Don’t move like that.”
“What happened?!” Humin supported him while reaching for the glass of water beside the bed.
“Drink first.”
Baekjin wanted to argue.
His throat hurt too much.
He drank.
Humin waited until he finished before putting the glass back.
"What happened?”
Baekjin repeated.
He didn’t understand.
He remembered the fight.
He didn’t remember anyone shooting.
There had been no gunfire during the battle between their schools.
“I went to confront your boss.”
Baekjin froze.
His heart gave one hard beat.
“Mr. Choi?”
Humin didn’t answer immediately.
That was an answer by itself.
Baekjin stared at him.
Mr. Choi.
That man had built his life around violence, illegal deals and people who disappeared when they became inconvenient.
He didn’t fight fairly.
He didn’t show mercy.
And Humin had gone to him.
“You…”
Baekjin struggled to find words.
“You went there?”
“I fought them.”
Humin said it as if he were discussing basketball practice.
“Si-eun helped collect documents. Jun-tae said we should contact the police. We got out before they arrived, and last week Si-eun sent everything anonymously.”
Baekjin stopped listening after two words.
Last week.
His breathing changed.
“Last week?”
Humin looked at him.
“How could you know last week?”
Baekjin suddenly looked around the hospital room.
“What day is it?”
“Baekjin.”
“What day?”
Humin hesitated.
“It’s been ten days since the fight.”
Ten days.
Baekjin stared blankly ahead.
Ten days.
He had been unconscious for ten days.
Had he been in a coma?
Had Humin been sitting here while he slept?
Had Humin fought Mr. Choi while Baekjin was lying here completely unaware?
Then another thought crashed into him.
“Wait.”
His gaze snapped back to Humin’s shoulder.
“Mr. Choi shot you?”
He started trying to sit up again.
Humin immediately grabbed his shoulders.
“Don’t.”
“Humin—”
“I’m alright.”
“You were shot!”
“Grazed.”
“That’s still being shot!”
“Baekjin.”
Humin tightened his grip just enough to stop him.
“Do not move so harshly. Understand?”
Baekjin froze.
Humin rarely used that tone with him.
Calm.
Firm.
Commanding enough that it sounded less like a suggestion and more like a law.
Baekjin hated how quickly it worked.
“Humin—”
Before he could continue, Humin leaned closer.
Then Humin kissed him.
Baekjin’s thoughts stopped completely. For the first second, he couldn’t react. Humin’s lips were warm against his.
Firm.
Certain.
There was nothing hesitant about the gesture.
Baekjin’s fingers tightened slightly against the hospital blanket. Humin drew back just enough for Baekjin to breathe.
Baekjin stared at him.
Then Humin kissed him again. Longer this time.
Still gentle because of Baekjin’s injuries, but no less certain.
Baekjin felt Humin’s hand slide carefully behind his head, supporting him without putting pressure on any of his bruises.
Baekjin had spent ten days unconscious.
He had nearly drowned.
He had been convinced he was going to die.
He had woken terrified that Mr. Choi would find him.
And somehow Humin could still make the rest of the room disappear for several seconds.
When Humin finally pulled away, Baekjin stared at him.
“Humin…”
“Baekjin.”
Humin looked unusually serious.
“I—”
The door opened.
Both of them turned. A nurse walked inside.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
Baekjin closed his eyes.
Of course.
Of course someone had to walk in at that exact moment. The nurse approached his bed.
“I need to check your condition. I’ll also inform the doctor that you’ve regained consciousness.”
Baekjin was barely listening. He was far more aware of Humin stepping away from his bed to give the nurse room. Baekjin felt strangely irritated.
First Humin stopped kissing him.
Then the nurse appeared.
Terrible timing.
Absolutely terrible.
Still—
Baekjin glanced toward Humin.
Humin was alive.
Baekjin was alive.
Mr. Choi had been arrested.
And Humin was here.
Baekjin could survive a nurse interrupting them.
Probably. Hopefully, once everything was over—
he would get another kiss.
---
+1
Humin is good with kids.
It was the day before Christmas.
Baekjin and Humin had gone to visit the orphanage Baekjin used to live in. They brought gifts for the children.
A lot of them.
Not expensive electronics or flashy things that would break in a year.
Mostly practical things.
Books.
Warm clothes.
Art supplies.
Small toys.
Socks.
School supplies.
Things children actually needed but could still become excited about receiving. Everything had been packed into two enormous boxes. Humin carried one. Baekjin carried the other.
They placed them near the Christmas tree after the director showed them where to go.
Baekjin didn’t actually need directions.
He remembered the building.
He remembered the hallways.
He remembered exactly where the tree was usually placed.
But he allowed the director to guide them anyway. She was a good woman.
Strict sometimes.
Busy almost always.
But good.
She had spent years keeping the orphanage functioning despite never having enough money, enough staff or enough time. The director recognized both of them.
Baekjin expected her to remember him.
He had lived here.
Humin, however, looked surprised when she recognized him too. After they walked away, Humin leaned slightly toward Baekjin.
“She remembers me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Humin.”
“I only met her like five times.”
“Something like that.”
Humin looked genuinely impressed.
Baekjin wasn’t.
The director had always remembered people well.
Besides—
she remembered Humin because Baekjin had talked about him.
A lot.
Probably more than Baekjin realized at the time.
Whenever the director asked about school, Baekjin had eventually mentioned his friend, his best friend, the loud one, the basketball player.
The person who had defended him.
The person who kept dragging him places.
The person who somehow made school feel less unbearable.
Humin.
“Hm.”
Baekjin gave no further explanation.
They returned to the boxes and started putting wrapped presents beneath the tree. Humin crouched beside one of the boxes.
“Guess we’re Santa.”
He grinned.
Baekjin rolled his eyes.
“You don’t look like Santa.”
“That’s because I’m the handsome version.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Handsome Santa.”
“Humin.”
“Fine.”
Humin remained noticeably pleased with himself.
Once the last present was underneath the tree, they stood.
Baekjin dusted his hands against his trousers.
They were nearly ready to leave when the director stopped them.
“Won’t you at least stay for some cookies
Humin turned immediately.
“Cookies?”
“Freshly baked.”
Baekjin could practically see Humin transforming into a very enthusiastic Santa.
“Yes.”
Baekjin looked at him.
Humin looked at Baekjin.
“What?”
“You answered for both of us.”
“You like cookies.”
Baekjin sighed.
He couldn’t exactly leave without him.
So they stayed.
They sat at one of the tables.
A few minutes later, a plate of freshly baked cookies appeared.
The smell alone filled the room.
Sweet.
Warm.
Humin immediately took one.
Then another.
Then another.
Baekjin watched him.
Years had passed.
Humin still possessed the same impossible stomach.
Baekjin reached for his own cookie when he noticed something. The door wasn’t completely closed. There was a small figure standing behind it. Baekjin watched for several seconds.
“Who’s there?”
The figure jerked backward slightly. Humin turned toward the doorway.
Baekjin continued “I know you’re there.”
Slowly, the door opened. A little girl stepped inside.
Baekjin didn’t recognize her.
She obviously hadn’t been here during his own childhood.
She had freckles scattered across her face, especially around her nose.
Her dark hair reached approximately to her shoulders.
She looked around eight or nine.
Maybe ten.
“Oh.”
Humin immediately smiled.
“Hi.”
The girl remained near the doorway.
Humin lifted the plate.
“Want a cookie?”
Her eyes immediately brightened. She approached slowly.
Then reached toward the plate.
Humin waited patiently until she chose one.
“Good?”
The girl took a bite. She nodded.
“Why are you awake?”
Baekjin asked.
He wasn’t annoyed with her. She was simply a child. An orphan, just as he had once been.
Although perhaps, if Baekjin was being truthful. He was slightly annoyed that Humin’s attention was no longer entirely on him.
The girl chewed before answering.
“I wanted to see Santa.”
Baekjin blinked.
“Santa?”
She nodded.
“Did you see Santa?”
Humin’s expression immediately changed.
That mischievous smile appeared.
Baekjin knew trouble was coming.
“I did.”
The girl’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
She hurried closer.
“What did he look like?”
Humin pretended to think very seriously. He rubbed his chin.
“Well…”
Baekjin stared at him.
“First of all, he’s very handsome.”
Baekjin closed his eyes.
Of course.
“The most handsome Santa you’ve ever seen.”
The girl frowned.
“What about the beard?”
Humin immediately changed direction.
"Oh! Right.”
He deepened his voice.
“Ho, ho, ho!”
The girl giggled.
“He definitely has a long beard.”
“White?”
“Very white.”
“And a red coat?”
“Obviously.”
“Big belly?”
Humin paused.
Baekjin looked at him.
The girl waited. Humin sighed dramatically.
“Yes. Huge belly.”
The girl smiled. That sounded correct.
Humin gave her another cookie.
“Here.”
She happily took it.
“Good girl.”
The girl rested one hand against Humin’s thigh while eating. Humin didn’t seem bothered.
He gently patted the top of her head.
Baekjin watched them.
Strangely from the right angle, they almost looked related. Something about their expressions. Their smiles.
Perhaps the way the girl’s eyes curved when she looked happy.
Not enough that anyone would genuinely mistake them for family. But enough for Baekjin to notice. Almost as though she carried a tiny resemblance to Humin. A resemblance that could never actually mean anything.
“Humin.”
Humin looked over.
“Hm?”
Humin continued patting the girl’s hair.
Then he smiled at Baekjin.
“Happy birthday.”
Baekjin froze.
Oh.
Right.
His birthday.
Humin remembered.
Of course he did.
Baekjin suddenly felt something tight and warm settle in his chest.
Humin remembered, like he did always.
Without being reminded.
The girl eventually finished her cookies and wandered back toward the sleeping rooms after being told she should return to bed.
Not long afterward, Baekjin and Humin left too.
Baekjin remembered Humin taking his hand outside.
He remembered their fingers fitting together while they walked.
And when they reached home there was a cake waiting.
Humin had planned it.
Of course he had.
They ate it far too late at night.
Humin complained that Baekjin had to eat a bigger piece because it was his birthday.
Baekjin argued that Humin was clearly trying to make Baekjin eat more so Humin could justify eating another slice himself.
Humin denied it.
Very badly.
Later, Baekjin remembered lying back on the bed while Humin leaned over him.
There was no fear in the closeness.
No need to pull away.
Only warmth.
Humin’s familiar weight beside him.
The sound of their breathing.
A quiet laugh when one of them bumped the other.
A kiss pressed against Baekjin’s lips.
Then another.
And another.
Nothing hurried.
Nothing demanded.
Just Humin.
Warm, loud, ridiculous Humin, who had remembered his birthday.
Who was good with children.
Who had once brought Baekjin to his father’s chicken restaurant because Baekjin had been the first friend he wanted to take there.
Who gave the best hugs.
Who could somehow carry half his possessions on one hand.
Who learned sign language because his cousin couldn’t hear him.
Who had nearly gotten himself shot.
There were many strange little things Baekjin had learned about Humin over the years.
Some important, some ridiculous.
But Baekjin remembered all of them.
Because they were Humin.
And apparently, when it came to Humin, Baekjin had always been very good at remembering.