Eighteen’s Bed Chapter 13.3

My body was weak, but it was healthy.

That might sound contradictory, but what I ant was that while I was frail when it ca to fighting or exerting strength, my recovery speed was absurdly fast. It was a bizarre body, really.

The cast ca off in less than three months. Apparently, my bones had already fully healed. To be honest, I didn’t feel much discomfort moving my arm. The bruises and contusions on my body quickly faded back to their original color. The wounds on my feet had scarred a little, but they no longer hurt. It seed that even though I lacked strength, my body had remarkable resilience. They say nothing in this world is entirely bad.

My parents, on the other hand, were in total chaos.

My father, who had to stay overseas for work, raged on the phone for hours, while my mother, who had caught the next available flight the mont she heard the news, took one look at my face and imdiately started screaming into the phone. The content of the call was obvious—she was threatening to open a school violence committee.

For the first ti, I felt a twinge of guilt toward my parents. It finally felt like I had beco an unfilial son.

Everything was taken care of swiftly. I didn’t have to do anything. I just lay in bed, feeling the salty sumr breeze drifting through the window.

The conclusion of this entire ordeal was that Hong Huijun was expelled.

Apparently, his frequent disruptive behavior and interference with the academic environnt had already been noted by the school. Honestly, compared to Kim Minho, Hong Huijun caused fewer problems and was actually a quieter student.

But having wealthy parents had its perks.

My mother, who had ultimately secured victory, left for overseas again. The sa mother who had been crying in front of didn’t hesitate to rush to the airport the mont it was ti for her flight. I understood. It was inevitable. It was the kind of treatnt an obedient son who t expectations was supposed to receive. I decided to take pride in it—to see it as a solitude I had to endure in exchange for a greater benefit that would one day return to .

And so, at ho, there was no adult to protect , and at school, there was no friend to stand by .

Yet, I felt an unprecedented sense of peace.

The one who controls public opinion first always wins in a fight. In that regard, I had the advantage. I had returned, albeit late, while Hong Huijun had been expelled completely. However, that didn’t make the perfect victor—unfortunately, it was a disgraceful win.

The new nickna I had acquired was mama’s boy. It was unspoken, but it was there.

The one saving grace was that the general consensus seed to be let’s not ss with Kang Jun if we can help it. Even if it was more out of disgust than respect, it was still a relief for .

After all, who would want to be expelled in the second sester of their senior year? The third-year students in this school—especially the ones from the poorer district—must have realized, painfully so, the difference in status. No matter how high they climbed here, out in the real world, they’d all be beneath soone like .

Still, for so reason, the fact that they had co to understand that didn’t sit well with .

"But still, 'Mama’s Boy Kang Jun' sounds kind of la and embarrassing, doesn’t it?"

I had the luxury to make such idle remarks.

Maybe it was because my greatest sorrow had disappeared.

When I returned to school, the first person to welco was, surprisingly, Oh Yeonjun.

Though awkward, even Park Haon and Im Yoonki at least pretended to be concerned.

"Kang Jun, hey. Are you feeling better?"

It was a line straight out of a textbook.

And Go Yohan?

Amusingly enough, Go Yohan was slumped over his desk, either asleep or deliberately pretending not to notice . I knew Go Yohan’s intentions sotis, but for the most part, I didn’t understand him at all.

Lately, Oh Yeonjun had been acting all high and mighty, going as far as to sit two rows away from Go Yohan’s seat, pretending like he was part of his crowd. The idiot was seriously acting like he belonged.

After my stiff greetings with Park Haon and Im Yoonki were over, Oh Yeonjun sauntered over like a prowling hyena.

This was the most dynamic welco I had received today.

"Hey, Kang Jun. You’ve got so skills, huh?"

Got so skills? What a joke. Who the hell did he think he was to judge ?

I didn’t even feel it was worth responding to, so I just nodded.

Apparently dissatisfied with my reaction, Oh Yeonjun kept going.

"In the end, money really is the best, huh?"

He wasn’t wrong.

But sothing about the way he said it irked .

"Why?"

"What do you an, why? Your parents completely took down Hong Huijun."

Oh Yeonjun made a slashing motion across his throat with his hand.

His voice was annoyingly cheerful, completely oblivious to how irritating he was being.

Disgusting.

I rummaged through my bag.

Still unsatisfied with my indifference, Oh Yeonjun leaned in and whispered,

"That guy was in the sa crowd as that gay, you know. Like attracts like, right? You know how desperate he was for attention. Total attention whore."

The way he spoke, as if he were any different, was absurd.

Originally, he would have been nothing more than fodder for my ranking gas.

The fact that I couldn’t deal with soone like him now only made my situation feel more pathetic.

"You really did us a favor by kicking him out. Honestly, having soone like that around was ruining the class atmosphere."

Bullshit.

I had been tolerating Oh Yeonjun’s stupidity, but then my hand, which had been pulling out my pencil case, suddenly froze.

I had just realized sothing.

I dumbly stared at the ceiling.

Why was I just listening to this idiot?

Why was I sitting here, enduring this crap like so obedient dog?

This is exactly why this ranking ga is bullshit.

If you get assigned a shitty position, even if you don’t belong there, people start believing you do.

…Right. That’s it.

I don’t have to take this anymore.

I had made an unspoken agreent with Go Yohan.

At the very least, we would act like classmates.

That ant he wasn’t going to stomp into the ground.

If anything, he would go back to ignoring like before.

A smile crept onto my lips.

And yet, at the sa ti, sothing felt off.

I ignored that feeling.

I wasn’t so idiot Kang Jun anymore.

Letting Oh Yeonjun’s words pass through one ear and out the other, I suddenly locked eyes with him.

"Hey."

"Huh?"

"You…"

My lips curled upward.

This wasn’t intentional.

It was genuine amusent.

In the lightest, most casual tone, I playfully scolded him.

"Cut the gossip."

That’s right.

I had already beaten Hong Huijun.

Even if we had tied, I was still the one left in school, the one controlling the narrative.

If I had taken down Hong Huijun, dealing with Oh Yeonjun was nothing.

"Huh? Wh-what? Gossip?"

My eyes curved into crescents.

"What’s with you, Kang Jun? Why are you talking like that?"

"What do you an? It’s just uncomfortable to listen to. Talking about the past like that—it’s petty."

"What? Petty?"

"No, that was too harsh. My bad. Guess I was a little sensitive."

I ended the conversation right then and there, pulling out my pencil case.

The normally chaotic break ti after first period was silent.

Not that I cared.

I set my pencil case down and looked back at Oh Yeonjun.

This ti, hoping he would finally take the hint and leave.

"You know I was just joking, right?"

"Hey!"

Out of nowhere, Oh Yeonjun shouted.

The sudden loud noise made frown.

I wasn’t smiling anymore.

I rubbed my temples and muttered.

"Why the hell are you yelling?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"

"Lost my mind? That’s a pretty rude thing to say."

"You seriously don’t rember what you just said to ? You’re the one who started talking like a total dick first!"

"What’s your problem all of a sudden?"

"You son of a b—"

Just as Oh Yeonjun was about to finally work up the nerve to spit out his pathetic attempt at a curse, a third party intervened.

A thick workbook slamd against the wall with a loud thud. It was math.

"What are you two doing? Sit down!"

Oh Yeonjun imdiately shut his mouth and shot the math teacher a wounded look.

"What are you waiting for? He said to sit down."

I benevolently patted Oh Yeonjun’s back as I spoke.

The teacher, having sensed the odd atmosphere filling the room, seed pleased with my cooperative attitude. Of course he was. Teachers only cared about one thing—that their class ran smoothly without extra drama. To him, a student like , who handled the situation on my own, must have looked downright admirable. And in a way, math had always liked .

As proof, he didn’t call on even once for problem-solving during the entire lesson.

After class ended, Oh Yeonjun returned to my seat, but I handled it cleanly—or at least, that’s what I thought.

"Yeonjun."

Honestly, I ant it.

At that mont, I seed to have forgotten how to lie.

"Isn’t it a little pathetic to co back twice like this?"

It seed I wasn’t ant to live an easy life.

"If you keep this up, people are just going to think you lost. Don’t do this to yourself."

The mont I finished speaking, Oh Yeonjun clenched his fists and trembled before shoving my desk hard.

With a loud clatter, my pencil case fell to the floor, spilling pens everywhere.

Annoyingly, Oh Yeonjun didn’t even bother picking them up. He muttered sothing under his breath and turned away.

I didn’t catch what he said. His voice was too low, and frankly, I didn’t think it was worth listening to.

If anything, he seed determined to show just how pissed off he was, throwing open the classroom door with all his strength.

"…Ow, my ears."

The door slamd into the threshold with a violent bang, shaking on its hinges.

That was Oh Yeonjun’s mistake.

Who the hell liked that kind of behavior?

His little tantrum was only going to piss off the rest of the class. He wasn’t exactly Go Yohan—he wasn’t intimidating in the least.

As soon as he left, I finally bent down to pick up my pens.

"Damn, what the hell? He almost broke the door."

"…Why are they acting like that all of a sudden?"

Of course, the way people looked at wasn’t exactly favorable either.

After all, it was my fault that things escalated.

Their eyes were probably saying the sa thing: He’s no different from Oh Yeonjun. Acting all high and mighty like he’s Go Yohan or sothing.

And honestly, they weren’t wrong.

I wasn’t Go Yohan.

I turned my head toward the back of the classroom.

Go Yohan was looking up slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets, blinking at .

His gaze was unreadable.

Then, his sharp eyes glead for a brief mont—before he broke into an inexplicable smile.

…What the hell?

As I sat there dumbfounded, Go Yohan slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets and started clapping.

Clap, clap, claaap.

The sound lingered in the air, stretching out unnecessarily, before finally stopping when he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

"Wow."

Go Yohan shook his head slowly, letting out an exaggerated sigh before addressing the class.

"This just proves that Jun is a really nice guy."

…What the hell is he talking about?

"You think so too, right?"

Go Yohan turned to the guy sitting next to him—so nobody, completely forgettable.

"Uh… I an, I guess?"

The kid’s answer made Go Yohan arch a brow.

"Hey, why the hesitation?"

"Huh?"

"You think so too."

Go Yohan dragged out his words, opening his mouth wide. His eyes, however, remained cold.

It was intimidation, plain and simple.

Faced with the trap of Go Yohan’s coercion, the poor herbivore of a student imdiately lowered his head, shooting a quick glance toward the classroom door where Oh Yeonjun had stord out.

"Y-yeah. I guess."

Go Yohan pointed at him triumphantly.

"See? It’s not just !"

His smile, this ti, was genuine.

Scrunching up his nose, he started clapping again, much faster this ti.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Then he pumped his fist in the air with a loud cheer.

The sound of Go Yohan’s triumphant celebration filled the classroom, his voice standing out alone in the stunned silence.

Go Yohan… defending Kang Jun?

The sudden shift in atmosphere left everyone bewildered.

"…What the hell."

I had no idea what Go Yohan was up to.

But then, I brushed it off.

It was probably just another one of his gas—another trap he was laying to ss with .

Before any event unfolds, the groundwork is always set in place.

Sotis, even if I don’t instigate it, and even if I don’t want it, the groundwork is being laid.

I’m not omniscient.

I’m just a high schooler with a slightly better head on his shoulders.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what groundwork is being set in motion.

"Seriously… What the hell is this."

To make matters worse, I was feeling oddly self-conscious.

To be completely honest, I was starting to distrust my own judgnt.

The fact that I turned into a complete idiot in front of soone I liked—God, just saying that pissed off—ant that I probably wasn’t making the smartest calls right now.

Go Yohan’s unreadable, laid-back deanor made doubt myself.

Was I misinterpreting everything?

Was I just seeing what I wanted to see?

A sudden wave of fear hit .

Then, lunchti arrived.

Oh Yeonjun, who had been making a spectacle in front of all morning, naturally approached Go Yohan.

But for once, Go Yohan didn’t bolt toward the cafeteria the mont the lunch bell rang.

Apparently, they usually ate together.

Oh Yeonjun went up to him, asking if he wasn’t going to eat.

And Go Yohan’s response?

"What are you on about."

That was all.

A sharp thrill shot down my spine.

I couldn’t help but glance back at them.

Go Yohan was staring intently at his rubber ball, rolling it between his hands.

The entire ti, Oh Yeonjun failed to get even an ounce of his attention.

Then, our eyes t.

"……."

I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.

I wasn’t trying to mock him.

But Oh Yeonjun must have thought otherwise.

His face turned beet red as he looked between and Go Yohan, then stord out of the classroom.

Of course, unlike when he lashed out at , he left with a pitiful little excuse.

"Lunch is tteokbokki today."

Pathetic.

Absolutely pathetic.

Was that even worth saying?

I barely held back my secondhand embarrassnt.

And Go Yohan?

He didn’t even bother replying.

Instead, much later, while tossing his rubber ball in the air, he muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear,

"So what, it’s tteokbokki. What am I supposed to do with that information?"

His voice was so genuinely baffled that I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

I dropped my head onto my desk, shoulders shaking.

When I finally sat up, I cleared my throat, feigning exhaustion in case anyone had seen laughing.

As the classroom gradually emptied, I swallowed hard.

Sweat gathered in my palms.

It wasn’t like I had been thinking anything.

It was just…

That was just the situation I was in.

"……."

At that mont, an absurd thought popped into my head—an image of my legs tangled with Go Yohan’s.

I had no idea why.

That’s just how a high schooler’s mind worked sotis.

Fuck.

Of all things, that thought had to send a jolt straight to my gut.

The most maddening part was when Go Yohan, who had been playing with his rubber ball and watching from the back, got up and casually sat in front of as soon as the classroom emptied.

That familiar scent of soap hit again.

He sat there quietly, waiting, surprisingly still and subdued, as I automatically flipped open my workbook.

I pretended not to notice him and focused on solving the problems.

The soft scratch scratch of my pen filled the silence.

"……."

"……."

Neither of us spoke.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, I looked up—and our eyes t.

"You’re really studying hard, huh?"

Go Yohan was leaning against the desk, staring at .

I stiffened and gave him a dumb smile.

Though, apparently, it must’ve looked sowhat decent—because Go Yohan was the first to look away.

That reaction made my thigh tremble slightly.

Thankfully, my expression didn’t change much.

Go Yohan, who had looked away, absentmindedly ran his fingers along the corner of my desk.

My entire attention zeroed in on that small movent.

"Jun-ah, where are you eating lunch?"

What was I supposed to say here?

I lowered my head again and scratched at my workbook.

But all I saw were black letters on white paper.

Without thinking, I marked an X next to option three.

The middle one.

Then, as my gaze dropped, I moved on to number five.

"The narrator feels joy in their conversation with the person described in option 1."

My pencil slowly circled answer five.

"Jun-ah, you heard it, didn’t you?"

"……What?"

I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears as I responded.

There was no escaping it anymore.

I slowly raised my head.

I had only looked up.

And yet, I froze at how close Go Yohan’s face was.

"Tteokbokki."

Of course, my damn habit kicked in.

Without thinking, I stiffly parroted his words.

"T-tteokbokki?"

"You really didn’t hear?"

I didn’t answer.

Of course, I had heard everything.

But I didn’t want to admit that.

I didn’t want Go Yohan to know he still occupied space in my head.

"……."

One of his eyebrows twitched slightly.

A sign that he was displeased.

But unlike before, he didn’t pick a fight over it.

Sothing had definitely changed.

That reaction made , unconsciously, lean into one of my strengths.

It was a habit—sothing ingrained in my whole life.

My face naturally arranged itself into sothing a little more shaless and indifferent.

"What are you talking about?"

Even as I spoke, my body instinctively flinched, pressing against the back of my chair to put distance between us.

Go Yohan lowered his gaze as if deep in thought.

Then, in a quiet but unsettlingly heavy voice, he murmured,

"Hey."

"…Yeah?"

To be honest, I was a little scared.

But acting like I wasn’t was my specialty.

"……Fuck."

Go Yohan suddenly ran a hand through his hair and spat out a curse.

Then, he fell silent again.

The weight of it was suffocating.

My palms grew sweaty just watching him.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to shake the tension.

Even as fear crept up my spine, I put on an act—pretending to be unbothered, unfazed.

Go Yohan was dangerous.

He was a path I couldn’t go down.

"……."

Fortunately, for now, I seed to have won the mind ga.

Go Yohan bit his lower lip slightly, as if conceding defeat.

Or at least, that’s what I thought—until he lifted his head again, bringing his face even closer.

"I said it for you."

Shit.

I instinctively leaned back and blinked rapidly, trying to mask the slight redness creeping into my vision.

"……Said what?"

I inhaled sharply and gripped my chair.

Then, in a desperate attempt to change the subject, I threw out a random question.

"Tteokbokki…?"

The joints of my fingers ached from gripping too hard.

The sudden rush of excitent had tensed my entire body.

Go Yohan, watching intently, replied in a strangely soft, almost wet voice.

"I said you were nice."

"…What?"

"And then I asked, ‘Who cares if it’s tteokbokki?’"

What the fuck. Is this guy insane?

"That was all for you. You didn’t like Oh Yeonjun, right? That bastard must’ve been humiliated."

His eyes glinted, as if waiting for praise.

Unconsciously, I coughed.

Why the hell was my body reacting like this?

Damn it.

To hide the growing heat on my face, I rubbed my cheek with my palm.

A warning light flashed in my head.

Go Yohan was not an option.

I imdiately buried my head in my workbook.

That rubber ball of his was too unpredictable.

Forcing myself to stay rational, I muttered,

"…What’s gotten into you?"

"What do you an?"

Go Yohan leaned in, pressing his upper body against my desk.

The sheer pressure made my throat tighten.

I clenched my lips shut.

"You ignored all this ti, and now you’re suddenly being all nice again?"

He didn’t respond imdiately.

But I couldn’t see his expression—he had lowered his head.

Thankfully, the silence didn’t last long.

From between the stacks of white paper, his voice slithered through.

"Jun-ah."

His voice was gentle. Soft.

I had never heard Go Yohan speak like that before.

It startled enough that my entire body went rigid.

"Don’t do this. Please."

The strangeness of it all made snap back irritably.

"I don’t even understand why you’re talking to like this right now, and you keep pulling these weird gas—"

"Ah, sorry, sorry. I’ll hold back."

Like hell you will.

I frowned and glared at him.

Why the hell did I do that?

That glare led to another locked gaze—another mistake.

Fuck.

I instinctively looked away.

But then I realized—no.

That would an I lost.

I wasn’t going to live my life cowering like a damn dog forever.

In an instant, I forced myself to look up again.

"Ah."

Go Yohan, who had watched my every reaction, suddenly laughed.

It was a familiar expression.

I knew exactly when he made this face.

It was the kind of smile he showed when he was about to hurt soone.

That split-second of amusent, the struggle to contain laughter when he found sothing so absurd it shouldn’t be funny—but was anyway.

With a loud ahem, he cleared his throat, adjusting his expression.

Then, gripping his hands together like a repentant Catholic, he sighed dramatically.

Lowered his eyebrows.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"You were upset with , huh?"

He was baiting .

"Right? I’m sorry. Really…"

His large hand moved toward mine.

Bigger than most, his fingers trembled slightly as they covered the back of my hand.

I tried to pull away.

But I couldn’t.