Eighteen’s Bed

The gratitude was utterly insincere. Yet, in response to my answer, Go Yohan slightly pouted his lips and made a gesture of blowing a kiss towards me with his palm. I just tore at the bread meaninglessly, watching him. The twitching of my thighs was due to the fluctuating feelings, akin to those of a teenager who couldn’t quite grasp what to say.

The bread remained on the desk as I sucked on a lollipop, mulling over the awkward conversation I had with Go Yohan. I knew exactly why it was uncomfortable, though I didn't want to admit it. It seemed clear without looking, and felt tangible without touching, but what was grasped was only a clammy mist.

I twirled the lollipop in my mouth.

Is he really with Park Seungwan? Park Seungwan, who had a wild school life and became a nightclub tout after graduation—honestly, just like what the future holds for Kim Minho. Whether it's Lee Seokhyeon, Kim Minho, or Park Seungwan, their lives are no different. Ridiculously so.

“Whoever ate my snacks better pay up now! Ah, just give me the money!”

Kim Minho yelled noisily. He completely disregarded the classmates who remained to study. The rest were no different. Lee Seokhyeon punched Kim Minho's arm, shouting,

“Son of a bitch. The money you owe me could buy a hundred of these damn burgers.”

“Ah! My money!”

The back of the classroom turned into a madhouse with Lee Seokhyeon and Kim Minho's screaming. They were so busy wrestling each other that they seemed oblivious to the rest. Displeased looks were being thrown from the front of the classroom.

“This guy has been really annoying lately.”

Turning towards the voice carried by the wind, I saw Go Yohan. Our eyes met for a moment as he sat in his chair.

“……”

Without warning, Go Yohan reached out slowly towards me. Mesmerized by his neatly trimmed nails, I sat stiffly as his long fingers twined around the white stick on my lips like a snake.

Go Yohan pulled slowly, a sticky mass sliding down my tongue and grazing my lips, then suddenly, the heavy, hot mass popped out of my mouth.

“I’ll enjoy this.”

The melted lollipop squeezed between lips curved into a sly smile. Then, licking his lips as if cleaning them, Go Yohan laughed and said,

“Why?”

Go Yohan often laughs. But his laughter isn't always as pleasant as his humor.

“It's dirty.”

“Don’t you know? Exchanging saliva is a way to boost immunity.”

“……That’s really gross.”

I closed my mouth tightly, as if it were cracked dry earth. Go Yohan then placed his hand on his thigh, sweeping up to his knee and arching his back. I curled all my fingers, hiding them inside my palm.

I know. I know I'm an idiot, too.

With his hand resting on his knee and sitting askew, Go Yohan shoved the candy into his mouth and shrugged his shoulders.

“You said you hate lemon flavor?”

He sucked on the candy elongatedly. Air whistled in and out between his lips. Grade 9. A surprisingly ordinary life for Go Yohan’s lips.

“That’s lime flavor.”

“Then it’s fine. I like lime flavor.”

“……”

And annoyingly, Go Yohan licked the candy that someone else had eaten quite skillfully.

Another day passed. As autumn approached, the school anticipated the harsh winter to come, with not a speck of dust under the perfectly blue sky growing sharper and heavier. The teachers felt responsible, and the students sensed a grave duty to make a mark on their lives. However, there are always exceptions.

Han Junwoo, Kim Minho, Park Dongchul, Lee Seokhyeon, Kim Seokmin, and others, excluded from the model students' square, were like discardable pawns meant to lead the majority to success. As time passed, the punishment for their wanderings softened, and interest in them waned. The only difference was that Han Junwoo had noticeable parents, which made him a nuisance.

The truly pitiful one was Han Taesan. If only he hadn't gotten entangled with Han Junwoo, he might have gone to a decent university, graduated, and worked at a company he wouldn't be ashamed to talk about. Or, if only his grandmother hadn’t contracted pancreatic cancer.

Yet, I decided to ignore everything happening outside the square. That was the best decision for my life.

And so I lived, until the day I had to face something inevitable.

Everything has a potential to occur. Especially the fool Han Junwoo, who accelerated his way to that potential without any plan.

Han Junwoo returned to the classroom.

*****

I clicked my tongue quietly.

It was because I could see Han Junwoo lying over a desk in front of the podium, through the unopened back door. Eventually, Han Junwoo’s father found him. I heard about it from his father.

It’s an awkward time now, nearly 20 days after he ran away and he’s just been caught. If you're going to run away, you might as well go to some remote countryside. Why he was lurking around as if asking to be found, I really wonder.

I tapped my fingers on the overlapped part of the two doors.

Entering feels quite uncomfortable.

As I contemplated, my gaze fell on the back of Han Junwoo's head. A few strands of his thick, stiff hair were sticking up. There was a time when I would occasionally smooth them down under the guise of a casual gesture. Now, that memory seemed so distant and blurry, I decided to let go of any lingering attachment and turned to head downstairs. I knew there was nothing good in encountering Han Junwoo when few people were around.

The school is a place with many watchful eyes. Even if Han Junwoo simply struck up a conversation, rumors would undoubtedly start that Han Junwoo and Kang Jun were seen talking alone. These would inevitably be blown out of proportion. The worst scenario would be Han Junwoo hitting me again. The thought of being beaten by Han Junwoo was humiliating enough.

The best possible outcome would be if Han Junwoo ignored me, but I'm not foolish enough to rely on a mere one-third chance. The wisest choice is to eliminate the bad situation altogether when no one knows.

So, I returned to the first floor and loitered near the shoe racks until, ten minutes before the school gates closed, I blended into the crowd of students arriving at the busiest time. I only then found the spot where I should have already been sitting and solving problems.

I tried not to show any interest in everything happening because of Han Junwoo, or rather, I tried not to let others know that I actually had a significant interest. My consistent efforts seemed to be paying off.

Yet, Han Junwoo remains my greatest variable. Frustration and disgust washed over me. Fuck. Discomfort and anxiety gradually consumed my emotions, a phenomenon that intensified after Go Yohan arrived at school.

Go Yohan approached Han Junwoo as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, even going so far as to greet him.

“It’s been a while, Han Junwoo?”

His friendly tone was so absurd it stunned me. For a moment, curiosity overcame my anxiety. Looking up, I saw Go Yohan standing with his bag slung over his shoulder, pulling at the corner of his mouth in a broad smile. Han Junwoo merely nodded without responding.

“What’s with that reaction? So cold.”

Pushing away Han Junwoo's desk with his foot seemed inappropriate given that it was Go Yohan who had precipitated Han Junwoo's downfall within this classroom's square hierarchy. However, not wanting to bother with such petty matters, I tried to focus back on the ‘real’ problems laid out on my desk, though that effort was disrupted as the homeroom teacher walked in for the morning roll call.

The teacher seemed genuinely pleased that Han Junwoo had returned, and there was a clear sense of guilt about Han Taesan not having returned yet. What a timid and fragile person.

“Taesan isn't here today either.”

He murmured this to himself, clearly trying to imply more with his words. Then he finished with a slight tap on the attendance book on his desk.

The incident occurred quicker than expected.

As Han Junwoo was rummaging through his desk drawer to pull out a textbook and grimaced at its filthy state, a couple of students who had left their textbooks in the classroom lockers raised their hands and exited. Han Junwoo's expression worsened as they left.

Since he never really studied, having or not having the textbook likely didn't matter to him. The real issue for Han Junwoo was probably that an item marked with his name had disappeared.

Everyone in the classroom knew the truth, but as if by unspoken agreement, no one said a word. Not about who threw away Han Junwoo’s textbooks, nor about who instigated it.

“Who is it?”

As soon as the class ended, the moment everyone had unconsciously anticipated began.

“I said, who is it?”

Han Junwoo, hands in his school pants pockets and chin lifted, demanded answers. Those who disliked the situation slipped out of the classroom, while those intrigued glanced around. In that atmosphere, Go Yohan, holding a thoroughly dirty, almost unrecognizable pencil covered in finger marks, was scribbling something in a textbook and nonchalantly said,

“What are you talking about?”

“Who?”

“What do you mean? You need to speak up if you want people to understand.”

The audacity was staggering. Truly brazen.

“The bastard who threw away all my textbooks.”

It was clear to Han Junwoo that his textbooks hadn’t just vanished by chance, especially for someone as sensitive to hierarchy as him, akin to a wild animal. Moreover, Go Yohan’s failure to answer ‘who’ meant he was complicit in acknowledging the truth. Even a fool would understand this. Yet, Go Yohan continued to jest as if unaware of the severity of the situation.

“Did you even have textbooks? You were always just sprawled across the desk, sleeping.”

See, there he goes again, laughing needlessly. There was no way Han Junwoo was going to let that slide.

“Enough, was it you, Kang Jun?”

And naturally, I was also implicated. This was obvious; any fool could see it.

“…No.”

In this classroom, no one was more wild and less civilized than Han Junwoo, who constantly made foolish mistakes. He must have felt his downfall acutely, as every look and every space held all emotions and memories. Yet, those of us sharing the same space pretended as if nothing had happened.

“Come on, would our model student Jun really treat his beloved textbooks that way?”

“Go Yohan—fuck, why do you keep butting in?”

“Butting in? If a friend is facing an injustice, it’s only right to help.”

“What the hell are you talking about, moron?”

“Moron? That’s a bit harsh.”

“Stop bullshitting. Who else here could have fucked up the atmosphere this much while I was gone, if not you two?”

Han Junwoo scoffed. Only then did Go Yohan put down his pencil on the desk. His lips still slightly puckered in a smirk. Han Junwoo’s face twisted in displeasure. Unable to contain his anger, Han Junwoo hurled a nearby backpack. Unfortunately, it hit me squarely in the chest.

“Ah!”

It wasn’t particularly painful as it wasn’t heavily loaded, but it was startling. I frowned as I watched the backpack fall to my knees.

“This crazy fucker just throws stuff now.”

Before I could speak, Go Yohan interjected. His voice was already laced with annoyance. At that moment, Han Junwoo slowly lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Ah, I see.”

It was the look of someone who believed he had won. What does he think he understands? My furrowed brow wouldn’t relax.

“Go Yohan. Kang Jun. You two teaming up?”

“What?”

I was at a loss for words, and Go Yohan’s playful smirk vanished instantly. I was more bewildered than Han Junwoo, who had lost his textbooks. It seemed Go Yohan felt the same.

“Han Junwoo, sorry, but your words are so fucked up I couldn’t quite catch them.”

Despite clearly hearing them, Go Yohan placed his palm near his ear—a blatant mockery. And from what I had observed, Go Yohan didn’t stop at a single jest. It was just the start of his provocation. Sensing the uneasy air, I stood up. Meanwhile, Go Yohan stuck his pinky finger deep into his ear.

“Gay guys see everyone else as gay, huh? And my ear canal isn’t Han Taesan’s asshole, so no matter how much you dribble your dick juice, it’s not going in.”

“Fuck, you!”

Han Junwoo, unable to contain his rage any longer, charged.

“Go Yohan!”

He shouted Go Yohan’s name loud enough to fill the classroom, and without a chance to dodge, struck Go Yohan’s face. The surprise hit sent Go Yohan tumbling from his chair, crashing face-first into the floor.

Not stopping there, Han Junwoo heavily sat on Go Yohan’s stomach and hit him in the face again. He threw a punch toward his jaw. The classroom erupted into chaos, amid which Go Yohan spat curses in a slurred voice. Fuck. This fucking. His words trailed off repeatedly.

“……!”

In a brief moment, Go Yohan raised his right hand and hit Han Junwoo in the ribs. Han Junwoo lost balance and fell sideways, allowing Go Yohan to push him off and stand up.

“Ah, that really hurts.”

Go Yohan’s face was smeared with blood. He wiped his cheeks with the palms of his hands, spreading the thinning blood across his face. After cleaning his hands again, he opened his mouth and inserted two fingers. He grabbed one of his sharp canine teeth, which was visibly wobbling. It was clear down to the root.

Perhaps Go Yohan was adept at turning a situation fraught with fear into a kind of perverse play. He had a knack for blending words that didn't belong together, which was why it was chilling. Now, he was demonstrating that skill. He wiggled the tooth a few times before pulling it out with his own hand.

“Gasp….”

A gasp of horror sounded from somewhere. A crimson tooth was sandwiched between his blood-red fingers. This guy must be insane. Someone next to me whispered fearfully.

“Is that guy fucking crazy?”

I turned toward the source. It was Park Dongchul.

What did I do then? Noticing Park Dongchul's apprehensive glance in Go Yohan’s unfavorable situation, I firmly grabbed his shoulder and lowered my voice.

“Go buy a pack of milk from the store.”

I had heard that a freshly extracted tooth could be preserved in milk to potentially be reimplanted later. The idea of a blood-soaked tooth sparked a clear thought in my mind. Park Dongchul nodded shallowly a few times and then hesitated as if about to go to the store, then stopped awkwardly and asked.

“With my money?”

“Ah, shit…”

I glared at his pathetic face, haggling over a few pennies. Finally, he caught on and began to move in small steps.

“…Alright, I’ll go buy it.”

“You better hurry. Now.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. I appreciate it.”

I wasn’t sorry at all. Watching Park Dongchul’s retreating figure, I sighed and grabbed whatever was nearby. I needed something to hold onto to replace my tension.

It was crucial that Han Junwoo didn’t gain the upper hand. Go Yohan had to win. That was how I would survive here. Crushing Han Junwoo down was the only way I could make it in this cubic jungle. I had to live at the highest point within this small triangle. My body trembled with anxiety.@@novelbin@@

Kim Minho alternated his gaze between Han Junwoo and Go Yohan, muttering curses, mostly directed at Han Junwoo.

After writhing on the floor for a moment, clutching his side, Han Junwoo got up and they faced each other again. Go Yohan’s lips, tinged with orange from the mix of red and yellow blood, compared to Han Junwoo’s seemingly untouched face. Yet, the composure was more apparent on Go Yohan’s side. Strange, indeed. Or perhaps it was just an act. Go Yohan, without properly cleaning his mouth, threaded his fingers through his bangs and swept them back.

“Hey, Han Junwoo.”

“……”

“Take this.”

Go Yohan was definitely crazy.

“Really fucking crazy….”

Go Yohan threw his tooth at Han Junwoo. About forty pairs of eyes followed the trajectory of the white tooth as it flew through the air. Han Junwoo's gaze landed on Go Yohan's discarded tooth, his face contorting with disgust. In a flash, Go Yohan lifted his leg and kicked Han Junwoo's knee with force.

The sound was like wood striking wood. As Han Junwoo staggered, trying to regain his balance, Go Yohan seized the opportunity, grabbing Han Junwoo's hair and yanking him downward. Han Junwoo bent forward with a weak groan, and Go Yohan struck his face with his knee. When Han Junwoo grabbed at Go Yohan's pants buckle, Go Yohan grabbed his collar and pulled him down again, this time hitting him hard on the nose. Go Yohan's school pants near the knees were stained dark with blood.

"Wow. Ruthless. You wanted to win that badly? I never thought you'd stoop so low, Han Junwoo."

With his face smeared in blood and a nasty grin, Go Yohan mocked him. He licked his bloodied lips, then ran his tongue over his intact teeth, and spat bloodied saliva onto Han Junwoo's head. He then kicked Han Junwoo's right ear. The large body swayed from the impact, nearly flying across the room, but the grip on the hair pulled him back.

"Thought you could climb over me because I let you off as a friend, you fucking piece of shit."

Go Yohan held Han Junwoo's head down under his body, pressing it to the floor. Han Junwoo groaned and suddenly bent deeper, twisting his body. Go Yohan's weight shifted forward, causing him to stagger. Seizing the moment, Han Junwoo lunged at Go Yohan's lower body. It was Han Junwoo's strategy. Both of them tumbled to the floor.

It was the start of a brutal fight. No matter how strong, it was still just a high school brawl. And from the previously quiet classroom, cries of alarm finally erupted.

"Hey! Someone stop Yohan! Hey, Go Yohan! Stop it!"

"Fuck! What are you looking at? If you're not from our class, get out!"

"Close the window!"

"Class president! Big trouble! Get the teacher!"

"Kang Jun! Take this!"

Amid the chaos, Park Dongchul squeezed through to approach me. I grabbed the milk carton he handed me but couldn’t take my eyes off the entangled figures on the floor. Han Junwoo, rolling on the ground like I had once done, and Go Yohan's discarded tooth. I gripped the milk carton tightly, a whirlwind of unease and thrill coursing through me.

This fight had to be won by Go Yohan. For my sake. For my life. I had always lived a superior life, sitting in a higher position than others.

I clenched the hand holding the milk carton and moved forward.

Among the foul-smelling mass of bodies entangled in the fray, like Park Dongchul just now, I pushed through the noisy crowd, seized an unnoticed moment, and reached out to snatch Go Yohan's tooth.

I quickly submerged the tooth in the milk and hid myself among the crowd again. By the time I looked up, the fight had been decided. Han Junwoo lay exposed, his stomach bare, barely breathing on the ground. Exposing one's belly is a sign of submission and defeat. I looked at Go Yohan.

Someone once said that a missed love is nothing but a disaster. Han Junwoo, you were my disaster. Why did I bother with something so tormenting?

As the male shouts echoed louder, they seemed as indistinct to me as echoes across five valleys. Time slowed, and I saw Go Yohan rise and pick up a chair nearby.

"Go Yohan! Go Yohan, you crazy fuck! Stop it!"

Just when Kim Minho’s choked voice rang out clearly, the metallic legs of the chair dropped towards Han Junwoo’s face. Go Yohan was holding the chair.