Eighteen’s Bed Chapter 4.3

The liquor concocted from an eighteen-year-old’s mind is all the sa. When kids barely old enough to count all their fingers and toes try to devise an apology, it's nothing but an obvious, shallow trick, devoid of sincerity.

“You call that ‘just that’? That’s harsh. Don’t you know the saying?”

Go Yohan leaned back, arching his spine that had been pressed against the chair, and looked up at the ceiling. Crossing his arms, he kept smiling. With his naturally dark and lancholic face, even his smiles never looked truly bright.

“A man is either a dog or a kid.”

“…Seriously.”

“I’m not a dog, so whether I age or not, we’re all just kids. What difference does it make?”

If Han Junwoo’s father were a dog, now that would be a problem. Go Yohan cracked a useless joke as he unfolded his arms. I looked at him in disbelief, once again reminded that his ridiculous logic knew no ti or place.

“Hey, the buzzer’s ringing.”

Go Yohan sprang up and snatched the vibrating pager.

“Keep an eye on my stuff.”

“What stuff…?”

Ignoring entirely, he walked off and returned with a tray in each hand. Honestly, I was dumbfounded. Sure, his hands were big enough to hold one tray in each, but still—

“Isn’t that heavy?”

“Not really. Doesn’t feel like it.”

One of them was a stone pot, for god’s sake. Yet, he placed them onto the table without so much as a grunt of effort. Watching him, I was montarily dazed, and noticing my blank stare, he clicked his tongue and made a sharp sound.

“Were you impressed by my manners, by any chance?”

That was… quite a miscalculation.

“Just shut up and eat.”

“How am I supposed to eat with my mouth shut? Like this?”

I ignored him as he pressed his lips together and brought the spoon to them. Soon after, he grinned, baring his teeth, before plopping back into his seat.

Picking up my spoon, I looked down at the bowl in front of . I slowly lowered my hand, scraping the surface slightly. Go Yohan blew on his food, then set his spoon back down and began poking at the side dishes with his chopsticks.

I was about to take a bite but paused, my eyes strangely unable to leave Yohan’s hands.

“I’ve been thinking this for a while… You use chopsticks really properly.”

“? You think so?”

“Yeah.”

But sohow, it doesn’t suit you. It’s too formal. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. However, maybe because he was trying to read my expression, Go Yohan squinted before suddenly exclaiming, “Ah!” with a sinister smirk.

“So, you noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

I asked sincerely. What…?

“You’re pretending you don’t know, huh? Fine, you sharp-eyed, quick-witted bastard. Alright, I’ll bring you in on it too.”

On what, exactly? I frowned at his incomprehensible words, and Go Yohan twisted his lips.

“Well, when I go see Han Junwoo, there’s sothing I need you to… you know, help with.”

“What the… Forget it.”

It was obviously bullshit, so I just nodded halfheartedly.

Finishing his al first, Go Yohan stuffed his hands into his pockets and simply watched . As soon as I was done, he jerked his chin toward the hospital elevator. Then, without even wearing a watch, he repeatedly tapped his bare wrist as if urging .

“I’m done, so stop rushing.”

“We need to make visiting hours. You’re taking your sweet-ass ti.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine.”

“Get up. Hurry.”

“I’m up, I said.”

“Hurry up and call the elevator.”

“Goddamn it…”

Muttering irritably, I jogged over and pressed the button.

“Attaboy!”

“Fuck off…”

I shot Go Yohan a discreet glare. So this bastard gets clingy when he gets close to soone. Took over six months to figure that out. Then again, it’s not like I ever tried to.

As we waited, Yohan rubbed his fingers over the edge of the large bandage stuck to his jaw. The thick patch, firmly attached to his skin, started dangling slightly.

“Are you supposed to peel it off like that?”

“It’s annoying. Makes washing my face a pain.”

Before I could respond, the elevator doors opened. Yohan stepped in and imdiately pressed the floor button without hesitation. As we ascended, he looked in the mirror and bared his teeth, muttering nonsense like, “Huh, they’re aligned.”

I stole a glance at him. He bent slightly to see himself in the mirror, hands tucked into his pockets, exuding delinquent energy. And god, he was absurdly tall. While I was instinctively observing him, the elevator reached our floor in no ti.

The hallway was dead silent. Yohan jerked his chin at a hospital room.

“That’s the one.”

His slightly parted lips and downward gaze were laced with arrogance. As the doors began to close behind us, we stepped out. However, Yohan didn’t imdiately move toward the room. I stopped behind him, waiting for his reaction.

After standing still for a mont, he resud walking, his unusually long legs striding forward. Scratching at the adhesive edge of his bandage with his ring finger, he peeled it off in one go.

“Ah. Fuck. That stings.”

The discarded bandage went straight into his pocket. His pants, previously flat, now had a small bulge where it was stuffed. Turning around, Yohan looked at .

“…”

His exposed jaw was covered in a mix of bluish and deep red bruises. Honestly, it looked a little grotesque. Yet, the man himself grinned with absolute confidence, which felt strangely eerie and unsettling to . Especially with that perpetually sullen face of his—like he was always plotting sothing.

“How do I look? Convincing?”

Go Yohan, always full of shit. Everything he said was spontaneous and self-indulgent. He had a knack for trying to persuade with nonsense and, at tis, even trapped himself in his own delusions.

“…Who knows.”

Suddenly, I rembered sothing he had said just a few days ago.

He spoke about it as if it were soone else’s story—how he went back to church for the first ti in seven years. Since his First Communion at eleven, it was his first ti confessing. His sin? Not greeting God for seven years. He admitted he had stopped by because he was afraid his father would scold him. The priest told him that coming to confession with that kind of faith was troubleso.

"Ah, sorry about that." He had ant to leave then, but ended up giving the final blessing instead of the priest. The priest had been flustered. Even he only realized it after stepping out of the confessional. "I wanted to fucking die from embarrassnt. Why the hell do they have the prayer written right in front of like that?"

Yet, Go Yohan was definitely not going to church this week either. That’s just the kind of person he was.

"Well, my parents and so people from church kept asking why I hadn’t been coming. Is that the only thing they have to ask ? What can I do, I have to be consistent."

Go Yohan snickered. Seeing the others laughing along with him, I nodded. Yeah, in a weird way, he was consistent. And that consistency had never once put at a disadvantage.

I raised my hand and roughly peeled off the bandage resting on my nose.

“This should be enough, right?”

A dark red horizontal line ran across the bridge of my unusually high nose. Go Yohan looked at with a faint smile before his eyes curled in amusent.

“You know why Han Junwoo is a dumbass?”

Go Yohan lowered his head slightly, bringing his face close to mine, and whispered in a small voice.

“He has no brains. No brains at all. He doesn’t realize that if he keeps living like that, his life’s going straight to shit.”

Tap, tap. His thin fingers drumd lightly near his pocket.

“Should’ve listened to his dad. They say if you listen to your parents, good things co your way.”

And do you listen to your parents? I swallowed down the words before they could leave my mouth. Looking at it one way, it did seem like he did. Sure, whatever. Go Yohan’s voice was full of laughter. We soon arrived at a large door, and instead of opening it, he simply waited.

For a brief mont, I tried to analyze my own actions. Why had I followed him all the way here? Why was I going along with his antics? The most convincing reason I could think of was that I wanted to see Han Junwoo’s downfall with my own two eyes.

I lifted my head and looked at Go Yohan’s face. Placing my hand on his back, I spoke in a quiet voice.

“Let’s go.”

The mont I said it, Go Yohan smirked like he had been waiting for this. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, deliberately ssing it up, and hunched his back slightly as he carefully opened the door. He stepped in first, and I followed him inside the hospital room.

Han Junwoo was lying on the bed, and beside him sat a face I knew all too well—his father. Honestly, I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected him to actually be here.

“Sorry for being late. I’m Go Yohan,” he said smoothly, lifting his chin with shaless confidence. Though I was thrown off, I quickly masked my reaction and gave a slight bow.

“Hello.”

As soon as I finished speaking, the old man’s gaze, which had been fixed on Go Yohan, shifted to . Strangely enough, he looked a bit surprised.

“…You, aren’t you Jun?”

“I ran into him in the hospital lobby. You here for a visit?”

But before I could answer, Go Yohan did, playing dumb like it was second nature. The way he lied so naturally, like it was just another polite greeting, was impressive. He must have done it plenty of tis before. His shalessness left speechless, but I simply smiled and played along. It’s not like I could say otherwise.

“Yeah. Just visiting.”

“Ah… But, well…”

His worried expression faltered. It was obvious he wanted to say sothing but was hesitating, making it painfully obvious what was coming next. In the end, Han Junwoo’s father was the one to break the silence.

“Thank you for coming. I’m sure Junwoo will be happy. But Jun, I’m sorry, could you step out for a mont? There’s sothing I need to discuss with this student.”

“Oh, sure.”

I nodded and left the room without hesitation. For a second, I considered leaving the door slightly open to eavesdrop, but Han Junwoo’s father was staring at so intently that I couldn’t risk it.

So, I didn’t know what happened inside.

With nothing better to do, I turned to look out the window. The clouds were drifting slowly. It was hard to tell if the ti that passed was too short or too long for a conversation about forgiveness. But eventually, the door opened, and Han Junwoo’s father stepped out.

“Jun.”

“Oh, sir. Are you done talking?”

I quickly turned and gave a small bow. The sound of his polished shoes grew closer, and only then did I lift my head to look at the man who had given birth to my first illness. He had aged significantly. It had only been a few months since I last saw him, but his face had withered, making feel strangely uneasy.

“Sorry for suddenly kicking you out like that. Junwoo’s been acting so recklessly… But you still ca all the way here. I really appreciate it. He’s under dication right now, so he won’t be waking up.”

“Oh, no worries. I had to co, of course. Though it’s a sha I won’t get to talk to him.”

“Yes, thank you for understanding.”

Han Junwoo’s father let out a low sigh. It was so weak that it seed pitiful. There was none of the furious, roaring tiger that used to react to every little thing involving Junwoo—just a fragile, weary middle-aged man. I couldn’t understand why he looked so depressed. No way he was this down just because his son got beat up a few tis.

“I thought spending ti with you would help Junwoo get better… But lately, he’s just been getting into more trouble, hanging around bad influences… And now this…”

“…”

“By any chance, Jun, do you know a boy nad Han Taesan?”

Han Taesan.

My fingertips trembled slightly. I was so sick of this.

"Taesan? Yeah. He's in my class."

"What kind of kid is he? Do you know anything about him?"

"Uh, well… He's nice. Smart, too. But his family situation is tough. Even so, he was doing his best at school…."

"And?"

"Then, one day, he started hanging around Junwoo. And lately, he’s stopped coming to school. His grades have dropped a lot too…"

"…"

"That’s all I really know."

I wasn’t about to get dragged into this any deeper. But I made sure my face looked appropriately worried, pitiful, and sad—like I truly cared.

Han Junwoo’s father let out a deep sigh, running a rough, wrinkled hand down his face. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he hit with an infuriatingly selfish request—he had an urgent matter to attend to and had to leave, so he was entrusting Junwoo to . Just like that.

He patted my shoulder lightly before walking off down the hallway. He wasn’t taking responsibility for his son. Because his son embarrassed him. And as a parting request, he asked to keep an eye on Junwoo until that student—aning Go Yohan—left.

As if.

I stepped back into the hospital room and passed on the news.

"Go Yohan. He’s gone."

"How far?"

"Out. Completely."

Already seated in the guardian’s chair, Go Yohan straightened his back, tapping his fingers lightly against his thigh. Then he spun his body in place. The chair let out an annoyingly loud creak. There wasn’t the slightest hint of remorse or reflection on his face. Instead, he gave a mockingly exaggerated wave.

"Damn. His face is completely wrecked."

So much for an apology. Not exactly sothing the guy who wrecked that face should be saying, either.

Grinning, Yohan ran a finger down Junwoo’s unconscious face, pushing at his skin.

"Did it feel good, tattling to your daddy? What are you, a kid?"

He kept snickering to himself, then suddenly went, "Oh, right," and pulled a pen and a small sticky note from his pocket. The note had the na of a uniform shop printed in large, fancy letters, but the paper itself was cheap and yellowed.

Yohan bit off the pen cap with his canines. With a soft pop, the tip of the pen clicked into place, and he scrawled out a short sentence. Then, for so reason, he had to show it to .

The note read:

I GOT BEAT TO SHIT BY GO YOHAN LIKE A DOG.

Then, he slapped the sticky note onto Junwoo’s forehead and, as if thoroughly amused, took pictures of him. The click, click, click of the cara continued for a while.

Finally, Yohan pried Junwoo’s mouth open.

"Junwoo, ti for a delicious al."

He peeled the note off, shredded it into tiny pieces, and let the scraps tumble off his fingers into Junwoo’s open mouth. Then, he forced his jaw to move.

Click, click. The sound of teeth clacking against each other filled the room.

After toying with Junwoo’s jaw for a mont, Yohan glanced around and grabbed a water bottle. Then, he poured.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

Yohan smirked, tugging at the corners of his lips.

"The Bible says if your enemy strikes your left cheek, offer your right cheek too."

"…And?"

"Junwoo's enemy is , obviously. But I only got to hit his right cheek. So I ca to make sure I got the left one, too. The bastard won’t voluntarily turn his cheek to , after all."

Go Yohan didn’t stop smiling as he tapped Junwoo’s cheek with the back of his long fingers.

"You already beat him to a pulp, though."

"Huh? I didn’t beat him. I retaliated."

"Sa thing."

"Nope. Not at all. Jun, my dear Jun. You know, simple assault and self-defense are judged very differently by the law. The governnt decides—did you throw the first punch, or did you hit back after taking a punch? The first guy? Total scumbag. The second guy? Eh, he’s kinda okay."

"…"

"I’m kinda okay."

Go Yohan raised two fingers and pointed at Junwoo’s limp body.

"And he’s the scumbag."

Then, suddenly, he dropped his hand and his voice turned sharp.

"Shouldn’t have hit soone in the first place, dumbass."

Go Yohan pressed a swollen cheek hard with his index finger, making a scoffing sound. Han Junwoo’s head lolled to the side. I stared at Yohan with an expression of pure exasperation.

So this was his big revenge? Taking pictures and making him eat scraps of paper?

But when our eyes t, Yohan—fully aware of my disbelief—only kept grinning.

“What are you staring at?”

He puckered his lips playfully and shrugged.

“You’re acting weird.”

“What is?”

“There’s no way a single apology could be enough, no matter how badly you got hurt.”

“Fuck—”

The sudden curse slipped from his mouth. Startled, I widened my eyes and looked at him.

Yohan tilted his head slightly, biting his lip, shooting a sharp glare. His chin was lifted just enough to look down at , his gaze anything but friendly.

“He got beat. I got beat. What’s the big deal? If we apologize, it’s even. What, is he so kind of national treasure while I’m just so stray dog on the street?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“You’re really pissing off right now.”

Did he have to be this damn sarcastic? His tone, acting all put out, annoyed . So I shot back with just as much irritation.

“You’re the one who dragged out here on a damn holiday.”

“What? Hey, you were the one who asked to hang out. Changing your tune now? And co on, mutual benefit is a good thing.”

“Mutual benefit? And what exactly am I getting out of this?”

“You don’t know?”

Yohan’s mood swings were always sudden. Just now, he’d been spitting curses, and yet here he was, calling my na in an oddly lifted voice. It felt off.

Had Yohan always been like this? Was he always this kind of person?

"Jun."

I found myself looking at him as if drawn in. He pointed at Han Junwoo, a slow smile creeping onto his face.

“This is your chance.”

His voice was low, urging forward.

“I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? This is what you were waiting for, wasn’t it?”

My eyebrows furrowed on instinct. At the sa ti, Yohan’s eyes curved mischievously. Looking at them, I thought—

Go Yohan wasn’t a devout believer.

He was a goddamn demon that had crept into a sacred space.

He wasn’t religious. He was a blaspher.

So this was what he had ant at the restaurant.