Just A Friend

#46

“Ka-Kang Jihan…! Stop that, that with that bastard too! It’s dirty. It’s disgusting, so break up, break up with him!”

“…”

“If… if you say no to this too, I’ll re-report it right away. Right now, li-like this-!”

“Okay.”

Kim Jaewoo closed his mouth with a gasp at the readily given answer. Nam Seonwoo swallowed a laugh at the sight of him glaring in disbelief.

‘And here I thought he was going to demand something even stranger this time.’

“I understand.”

Since he was planning to break up anyway, in a way, it was like killing two birds with one stone. If this could cover up Kang Jihan’s violence under the surface, it was a bargain.

It was rather fortunate. If he kept postponing while trying to determine the ‘appropriate time for a breakup’ like now, it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to break up again. After all, it was because of that lingering attachment that he had dragged it on for fifteen years. Having this external trigger actually allowed him to make a quick decision.

‘The graduation ceremony would be good.’

After graduation, there would be no reason to meet in the classroom every day, so that day seemed appropriate. Nam Seonwoo smiled bitterly. Somehow, he felt that day would be not just a high school graduation ceremony, but a Kang Jihan graduation ceremony.

Kim Jaewoo cried even more pitifully. He had gotten what he wanted, but at the same time, he realized there couldn’t be a more perfect rejection than this. As if unable to accept that the reason for breaking up with Kang Jihan was because of Kang Jihan, he burst into a loud wail.

“Be quiet, will you.”

I’m the one who wants to cry, why is he crying? Nam Seonwoo clicked his tongue.

But strangely, tears didn’t come.

Maybe it was because it was the second farewell.

* * *

After that day, Kim Jaewoo took sick leave. Nam Seonwoo was internally worried that he might have reported to the police or the homeroom teacher, but even after several days, nothing happened.

He seemed to live alone, I wonder if he’s getting proper treatment, his crazy occupational disease almost kicked in again, but Nam Seonwoo barely held back. Attention is poison to weirdos. It was a lesson he had learned painfully from this experience.

He made up an excuse for Kang Jihan. He lied, saying that he had actually been recording when Kim Jaewoo was blackmailing him, and that he had threatened him back with it, so Kim Jaewoo had shut up. Kang Jihan, with an unconvinced face, only lowered his head after being scolded, “What if something happened when you acted rashly like that, even though I had a plan?”

Nam Seonwoo used this as an excuse to ask for distance. Don’t stick too close just in case, stop holding hands in front of the house. As the list of prohibitions grew, Kang Jihan’s face filled with dissatisfaction, but he reluctantly agreed, feeling guilty.

And so, Nam Seonwoo gradually prepared for the breakup, and time flowed mercilessly fast.

It was always the same daily life in the same classroom. As October came, thick coats were worn over winter uniforms, and as November began, heaters started running in the classrooms.

As some students who gave up on the current year’s college entrance exams started to leave, empty seats began to appear, but the owners of the two desks side by side always firmly held their places. Because that was the closest distance allowed to them.

Nam Seonwoo was perplexed. In dramas or novels, protagonists in terminal situations often spend their remaining time happily. But he simply couldn’t do that.

It was the little time left that he could spend with Kang Jihan. So even though he wanted to focus entirely on him, strangely, whenever he saw Kang Jihan’s face, his mood plummeted. He buried his face in his textbook feeling nauseated, but there was no way he could concentrate on studying.

His brain seemed to have lost its sense of time as if bruised. Time passed helplessly like a faded film, and the scenes in the film were always the same.

Kang Jihan studying in the next seat. Kang Jihan secretly smiling when their eyes met. Kang Jihan sleeping face down with dark circles under his eyes.

He reversed his decision dozens of times a day. Did they really have to break up? Kim Jaewoo was quiet now anyway. But the moment he recalled Kang Jihan’s back figure in mourning clothes, his resolve only grew firmer.

For the first time, he didn’t welcome the regression. If what was bound to happen would happen anyway, he couldn’t understand the meaning of going through this repetition. But there was no one to blame, and the resentment that couldn’t find a target soon turned towards himself.

I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Kang Jihan in the first place. I should have not even given him a glance and pretended not to know no matter what happened.

When Kang Jihan talked about their future campus life together with a voice full of excitement, self-loathing and guilt welled up, making it impossible to control his expression. Even just managing an awkward smile was enough to make Kang Jihan smile.

In that tedious and meaningless time, Nam Seonwoo realized one thing.

I probably won’t be able to forget Kang Jihan for the rest of my life.

Perhaps he had come to love Kang Jihan even more than in his previous life.

* * *

The day before the college entrance exam, the school had a shortened schedule.

Even after finishing the preliminary assembly, it was still bright daylight. Always leaving early in the morning and returning late at night, going home at this midday felt unfamiliar.

Nam Seonwoo blankly watched his breath dispersing in the air. He knew it had gotten cold, but seeing his breath like this made him suddenly realize the passage of time. It was summer when he first met Kang Jihan ‘again’, but the tree where the caterpillar had hidden itself was now frozen solid with all its leaves fallen.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

Nam Seonwoo took the first step. Kang Jihan followed slowly, hesitating a bit, then suddenly spoke up.

“Want to go for a ride?”

In his hand was the motorcycle key. The key, which seemed like it hadn’t been seen in a long time, reminded him of when they went for a drive to the Han River together. As he stared at it blankly, Kang Jihan soon corrected himself.

“Never mind. Let’s go home.”

“Why?”

Although winter was approaching rapidly, it wasn’t cold enough yet that they couldn’t ride a motorcycle. Feeling a bit disappointed, Nam Seonwoo said, tapping his own scarf.

“If you’re cold, I can give you this?”

But Kang Jihan shook his head and put the key back.

“It’s dangerous.”

At the look that seemed to say ‘You rode that motorcycle so recklessly despite knowing it’s dangerous?’, Kang Jihan avoided eye contact. Fiddling with the key in his pocket, he said as if making a resolution.

“I’m going to get a license right after the exam.”

“Are you going to drive a car?”

“Yeah.”

“Good grief. What car for a college student? Take the bus. Public transportation is good.”

“Buses aren’t that sturdy either.”

As Nam Seonwoo turned to look at him as if to ask what he meant, Kang Jihan searched for something on his phone. Then he showed a picture, saying it was the car he wanted to buy.

“How is it?”

“…”

“Is it too bulky?”

It was an early model of the large SUV that Kang Jihan from the previous life had driven. Suddenly remembering someone who had handed over a spare car key saying ‘You should drive this instead’, Nam Seonwoo closed his mouth. As he silently stared at the picture, Kang Jihan added as if making an excuse.

“But they say it’s sturdy.”

Watching him show other pictures, saying it would be fine even if hit by a truck, many thoughts came to mind. But all those thoughts were also useless.

Shaking his head vigorously, Nam Seonwoo said ‘Then let’s at least take a bus’ and dragged Kang Jihan to the Han River. He didn’t want to go straight home like this.

The Han River they had visited during the summer vacation had faded to winter colors in those few months. Due to the desolate wind, there were only a handful of people walking around, and the similarly sparse trees gave a somewhat bleak feeling.

Nam Seonwoo looked up at the sky. Unlike the summer sky where clouds had hung low, it was just gloomy. As he carefully looked to the side, Kang Jihan was looking at the same thing. Still, he thought it was good that they came.

“It’s tomorrow.”

Nam Seonwoo asked, deliberately putting on a light smile.

“Are you confident?”

“I have to be. To go to the same university as Nam Seonwoo.”

Nam Seonwoo responded with a silent laugh. Kang Jihan was still looking at the sky. As he was quietly watching that side profile, Kang Jihan suddenly asked.

“Are you going to keep commuting from home?”

“To university? …Probably?”

Nam Seonwoo looked at Kang Jihan strangely, who had no further words after asking the question himself. Just as he was about to turn his head towards the river, Kang Jihan caught his gaze as if to stop him.

“When are your parents coming?”

Since his parents often used their home like a temporary lodging, he was hazy about exactly when they had returned. Still, thinking they had come once after college admission, he vaguely answered next year, and Kang Jihan was silent again for a while.

“What is it, keep doing that. Why?”

“…Then.”

After a long pause, Kang Jihan suddenly threw his gaze to the grass and said.

“Stay at my house until your parents come.”

“…”

“We’ll sleep separately. There’s a spare room.”

Even though Nam Seonwoo didn’t say anything, Kang Jihan continued talking as if his feet were tingling.

“What if you collapse again while you’re alone? If someone’s with you at home, they can treat you quickly.”

Although his mother was there, it ultimately meant living together. As Nam Seonwoo was a bit dazed at the fact that the person proposing cohabitation had switched from before, Kang Jihan carefully raised his eyes.

“Don’t you want to?”

Soon discovering Nam Seonwoo’s expression, he closed his mouth. The face, neither positive nor negative but unreadable, was reddish at the tip of the nose and around the eyes, perhaps due to the cold. Kang Jihan, a bit flustered, asked.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Nam Seonwoo, who had seemed to be crying, answered in his usual nonchalant voice. Then he sprawled out on the grass like last time.

“Just… worried about the exam, that’s why.”

“You’ll do well.”

“…”

“It’s you, after all.”

Nam Seonwoo stubbornly glared at the sky without answering. And Kang Jihan looked at Nam Seonwoo instead of the unremarkable sky without a single cloud. This unentangled staring contest continued for a while.

The one who broke the silence was, once again, Kang Jihan.