Ha Giyeon, who had rolled hard across the dirt, couldn't get up.
The other kids gathered around him—but not one of them offered a hand to help him up. Ha Giyeon pushed himself upright and began limping off the field.
Son Suhyeon didn’t even need to look closely to know where he was headed. It was obviously the nurse’s office.
He’s really hurt, isn’t he...
Not a single person offered to support him. They just stood and watched. It made Suhyeon feel sick. Even the kid who tackled him wasn’t paying attention to him—just chatting casually with soone else.
Wait... that bastard...
Looking more carefully, he realized—it was the sa guy who had tried to push Ha Giyeon around last ti.
Without realizing it, Son Suhyeon clenched his fists. This was the third ti now. The guy was clearly doing it on purpose. He was harassing Ha Giyeon, subtly but persistently... Could he be the one who left those bruises too?
What the hell had Ha Giyeon ever done to deserve this?
To Son Suhyeon, he was just... unbearably kind.
And then, like a hamr crashing into the back of his head, Suhyeon rembered:
"Sunbae doesn’t know anything about ."
...Yeah, I don’t. But why do I keep acting like I do?
Was the version of Ha Giyeon I’d seen... fake? What had he really ant with the things he said?
If the way I’ve seen him is real—
“Son Suhyeon!”
Startled by the shout, Son Suhyeon snapped back to his senses and turned his head. The class president was standing at the front of the room, staring at him in annoyance.
“Then we’re going with this.”
“...Yeah.”
He had no idea what they were going with, but he answered vaguely and sat down. He wasn’t even sure when he’d stood up.
Ha Giyeon had already vanished from the field. The remaining kids were laughing and kicking the ball around. Suhyeon worried whether anything was broken, or torn, or whether Giyeon had injured his face.
He wanted to text him. He really did. But... how could he?
He had a conscience.
Suhyeon turned off the phone he was fidgeting with.
He had to keep his distance from Ha Giyeon. Nothing good would co from being entangled with him. Giyeon ca from a good family, had parents, a comfortable life. There was no reason for him to associate with soone like Suhyeon, who had nothing.
Being near him only intensified that bitter sense of deprivation.
But still, he couldn’t stop seeing Ha Giyeon’s face in his mind.
***
Knock knock. Ha Giyeon entered the nurse’s office, only to find the teacher gone. He let out a quiet sigh.
Of course the teacher wasn’t here. Ha Giyeon limped over to a chair and sat down. Glancing at his scraped knee, he was at least thankful he’d been wearing gym shorts—if he’d been in long pants, they would’ve torn for sure.
Though, co to think of it, the shorts were probably why he’d gotten scraped up so badly. Was that supposed to be a good thing?
His left knee was just grazed, a few drops of blood beading up. But the right one was worse—blood was trickling down his leg and soaking into his sock.
Just like last ti.
It hadn’t been his face this ti, but it was still blood—and it was still Nam Taekyung.
When Taekyung had asked if he was okay, Giyeon had said yes, and the ga had just resud like nothing happened.
That was way too blatant.
Anyone who wasn’t an idiot could tell. That wasn’t a regular tackle. It was hostile. Taekyung could have taken the ball easily, but he chose to bring him down instead. He must have had a lot of resentnt piled up. He was doing it so obviously that even the bystanders were catching on.
Ha Giyeon had heard their whispers as he left the field.
“Dude, that was totally on purpose.”
“Yeah, that was ssed up...”
“Seriously, they didn’t even help him. He’s gotta be on that group’s blacklist.”
They were whispering so that Nam Taekyung wouldn’t hear. Not that they’d ever say anything to his face.
It was a relief that he didn’t have to play anymore. But he was also exhausted from lack of sleep, and now injured—his fatigue doubled.
He pressed a tissue to his knee to stop the bleeding. It didn’t seem like anything was broken, thankfully, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop.
Where’s the bandages?
The teacher still hadn’t co, and break ti was approaching. That ant the office would be full of kids. He figured he’d just grab a bandage and go. As he rummaged through the drawers and trays, he suddenly heard a rustling from behind one of the drawn curtains.
He snapped his head toward it. He’d thought he was alone—but apparently not.
Had he been making too much noise?
He tried to quietly make his way out, but just then, the tal lid from the alcohol tray clattered to the floor.
“...!”
Clang! The sharp sound rang out through the quiet office. At the sa mont, the person behind the curtain suddenly bolted upright. Giyeon bent to pick up the lid and leave, but the curtain was drawn back faster than he could move.
“Goddamn it, who the hell— Ha Giyeon?”
“...Huh?”
The one who erged from behind the curtain... was none other than Choi Mujin.
***
Choi Mujin was frustrated. With Ha Giyeon.
He hated that Giyeon didn’t need them anymore.
Everyone always wanted him—needed him, liked him. Sure, maybe it was because of his background, but who cared? That was part of him too.
So Ha Giyeon should’ve acted the sa as before. Run to him crying, begging for help, tattling on the people who hurt him.
That’s how it should’ve been. So how did it end up like this?
Why had Ha Giyeon practically begged to be ignored?
He doesn’t need anymore, does he...
When Giyeon had told him—flatly—that he wasn’t needed, Mujin had, for the first ti, felt the future he’d envisioned begin to fall apart.
What if Ha Giyeon never ca back? What if he ignored Mujin for the rest of his life? What if he lived perfectly fine, just to spite him?
Kwon Jongseok had been smug, saying Giyeon would co back eventually, but Mujin didn’t buy it. Jongseok had been the one who hit him. And Giyeon had said it out loud—had nad him as the culprit.
Mujin hadn’t expected that. He figured, since Jongseok was Ha Dohoon’s friend, Giyeon would cover for him sohow. But no—he’d said it, clearly and boldly. That alone had made Mujin’s body tense with shock.
The fear crept in—what if Giyeon really never looked for them again? Never spoke to them again?
Like exes who cut all contact forever after breaking up.
Could we really end up like that? Is that even allowed?
We’re supposed to be...
Clang! That ear-piercing sound snapped Mujin’s eyes open.
He’d been lying down, head pounding from a migraine, trying to ignore whoever had co into the nurse’s office. He’d figured they’d leave soon. ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) But instead, they kept making noise—loud and obnoxious.
Irritated, Mujin sat up and muttered curses under his breath, flinging the curtain aside.
“Ha Giyeon...?”
Standing there awkwardly, dirt all over him, was none other than Ha Giyeon. He’d just picked up the fallen lid and froze when he saw Mujin.
“You... your state...”
Mujin’s initial surprise doubled when he really looked at him. He stepped forward quickly.
Giyeon had clearly been knocked around the field. His leg was bleeding. One white sock was stained crimson, and a wad of bloody tissue clung to his knee.
As Mujin’s face darkened, Giyeon quickly tried to explain.
“It was from soccer.”
“Jesus, what’d you do—go swimming on the field?”
Mujin cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.
“You suck at sports. Why didn’t you just sit and watch...”
Why had he played at all, with his nonexistent coordination? Who had done this to him?
Mujin’s head throbbed harder.
And what—he didn’t even treat the wound properly? He’d shown up like this again. If they hadn’t run into each other here, Mujin wouldn’t have known he was hurt at all.
He felt strangely bitter about that. If Giyeon had fallen in front of him, he could’ve helped—just like the old days.
Mujin knelt to get a better look, but Giyeon edged away and headed for the door.
“I should get going...”
“You’re going sowhere looking like that? At least stop the bleeding.”
“The nurse isn’t here, so I’ll just co back later.”
“You’re gonna walk around bleeding like that?”
“It’s almost stopped. I’m fine.”
Still limping, Giyeon headed stubbornly for the door.
Mujin scowled. Why was he being so damn stubborn?
His temples throbbed like they were going to burst. He pressed them hard with his fingers—and grabbed Giyeon’s arm.
“Wait. Let patch that up first.”
“The teacher’s not here, so—”
“I’ll do it. Just stay still.”
Mujin had gotten into his share of fights as a kid. He was used to patching up wounds—he could handle sothing like this.
As Mujin refused to let go, Giyeon gave in halfway and muttered, “Then let just... go rinse the dirt off at the bathroom first.”
Go to the bathroom from here? Like hell.
And besides, the way he looked—it was obvious he was planning to run.
So Mujin dragged him over to the sink in the corner.
“W-Wait, hyung...!”
Mujin grabbed one of Giyeon’s legs and lifted it up onto the edge of the sink. Giyeon wobbled, nearly losing his balance, and Mujin caught him by the waist—then began washing the blood from his knee.
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