Park Sion didn’t even glance at Kim Youngjin, who was shouting at me, and just kept urging me to go. Kim Youngjin stared at me nervously, and to make matters worse, he started a ranked match on his own. This is fucking insane.
“You’re going, right?”
“……”
“The screen keeps moving… I’m getting dizzy.”
Park Sion whispered with his head resting on my shoulder. He had even turned his chair completely toward mine.
“Then go by yourself!”
Kim Youngjin yelled again. Right, couldn’t he just go alone if he wanted to? A wave of fatigue started to wash over me. But it didn’t last long—Park Sion, eyes lowered as if nauseous, looked ridiculously pitiful. I couldn’t bring myself to say “Then go home alone.”
“…I’ll go after this match. The queue’s already locked in.”
“I’m really getting motion sickness.”
“If I quit now, Youngjin’s rank will drop.”
The pitiful puppy-face Park Sion had a second ago twisted into a scowl. His expression now looked like he might grab me by the collar at any second.
Youngjin kept pestering from one side, and Park Sion was gripping my wrist like he was going to drag me out right then and there. I was going crazy, stuck between them.
“Go.”
“Park Sion, you psycho! Just go by yourself already!”
“Let’s go.”
At some point, the match had already started. Through the speakers, I heard teammates calling my username. A few of them started hurling curses at me for not locking in a champion, and some were asking about the health of my parents. I could hear Youngjin, who had queued with me, yelling back at the ones cursing me. My head throbbed.
I shouldn’t have left Park Sion sitting alone while I played. If I were him, and my two friends were gaming without me, I’d be pissed too. Especially since it was his first time playing. Earlier, he didn’t even know ‘R’ was the reload key.
“Yoon Seonwoo. Seonwoo-yah.”
He called my name in a softened voice. But his dark eyes grew colder by the second. I weighed my options—who was more exhausting, pissed-off Youngjin or sulking Park Sion? The answer was obvious. Park Sion was ten times more exhausting than simple, loud Youngjin. In the end, I had no choice but to take my hand off the mouse. The moment I did, Park Sion’s eyes softened like magic.
“Youngjin, I’m really sorry. I’m gonna head out first.”
“What?”
“I’ll make it up to you next time. I’ll get your rank up to Master myself.”
“What the hell, dude! The game just started!”
“He says he’s feeling sick.”
I gestured vaguely toward Park Sion. Youngjin stared at us in shock.
“What’s that got to do with you? If he’s sick, let him go alone. Park Sion, you go home by yourself. Why do you keep clinging to Seonwoo for no reason?”
For once, Youngjin was making sense. I silently agreed, but still glanced at Park Sion. He gave Youngjin a quick glance, then locked eyes with me. Youngjin’s face turned red from being completely ignored. If I left things like this, I’d end up watching a childish fight break out. I hurried to my feet.
“Youngjin, I’m really, really, really sorry.”
“Wow. Yoon Seonwoo, you fucking traitor.”
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you—I swear I’ll get you to Master.”
“That’s not the fucking point right now!”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re going just because that asshole told you to? What are you, his little bitch? You and Park Sion are both fucking weird.”
Youngjin yelled, his face twisted in fury. You’re both fucking weird. That line echoed in my head. I tried to leave, but it felt like my feet were stuck to the ground.
Even now, Park Sion’s eyes scanned me with relentless focus. There was a dull sting in my wrist. Just that brief pause, and his grip had already turned anxious. Is this what Youngjin meant by “weird”? Or was he just calling me a dumbass for following Park Sion’s every word?
“What are you doing? Let’s go.”
“……”
“I said let’s go.”
His sharp, flat voice made my neck stiffen. Annoyance clung to Youngjin’s face like sweat. A low sigh escaped me. The noise that hadn’t bothered me at all before was now giving me a headache.
In the end, I gave Youngjin a half-hearted apology and slowly followed Park Sion out. Youngjin, clearly pissed, ignored my goodbye completely. As I came up beside him, Park Sion reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, squinting at me like he was inspecting something. Then he leaned in so close I could feel his breath by my ear.
“I was really dizzy. I had no choice.”
His voice was soft, almost sweet, with a faint smile. Maybe that pale look he had earlier was just from the monitor’s blue light. His face now looked clean and radiant, the same as always, as he said sorry.
“Sorry.”
Park Sion is seriously messed up. He says sorry without looking sorry at all.
I pressed the elevator button with a sour expression. After a few deep breaths, I finally managed to get my head on straight.
“The fast screen changes can make you feel sick at first. You’ll get used to it.”
“I was watching you the whole time while you played.”
He leaned all his weight on me again. I had no clue if his mood swings were extreme or if his personality was just all over the place. Just a moment ago, he had those cold, obsessive eyes that made me uncomfortable—and now he looked like he was genuinely upset.
“You didn’t even look at me.”
“Ah… sorry. Were you that bored?”
“Yeah. I was really about to feel hurt. You were only playing with Youngjin.”
He blinked slowly and looked up at me with that sorrowful expression. Park Sion? Looking pitiful? I must be losing my mind. A guy that stubborn should be annoying, but for some reason, he just looked sad. The second I saw the clear disappointment in his eyes, all the irritation I’d felt toward him earlier just… melted away.
“Let’s just get out of here. I’ve got a headache.”
I patted him lightly on the back like I was trying to calm him down. Yeah, I’m the asshole. I just dumped a tutorial on him and then ignored him to play games. It’s my fault. My fault he felt left out.
Honestly… I think Youngjin’s right. Neither of us is normal.
The moment we stepped out of the PC bang, Park Sion’s complexion cleared right up. I let out a dumb laugh. He clung to me again as we walked. Despite saying he felt dizzy, he insisted on going to my house to rest instead of his own, which was closer.
The exams were over, and we already ruined any fun at the PC bang. So I gave in without a word and headed home with him.
“Let go of my wrist already.”
“No.”
“It hurts.”
“Then do you want to hold hands instead?”
He took my hand as he said it, eyes wide and clear.
First an arm around the shoulder, now hand-holding? I suddenly wondered what Park Sion thought the physical boundaries between friends were.
“Why would friends hold hands?”
“So what?”
He shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world. Just because I never had a proper friend didn’t mean I was brain-dead. I yanked my hand away as he tried to intertwine his fingers with mine.
“What kind of guy does this shit with another guy?”
“We do.”
“What do you mean ‘we’? I never agreed to this!”
“Is there some law that says friends can’t hold hands?”
Park Sion tilted his head like he was genuinely confused.
Am I the only one who doesn’t get this? Did high school culture change while I was getting ostracized or something?
“What law? Go ask a random person on the street. See if anyone says it’s normal for guy friends to hold hands.”
“You’re just full of biases.”
“You call this bias? It’s just common sense.”
“Every bias wears the mask of common sense.”
He grabbed my hand again with his long fingers. My face twisted in disbelief. Seeing my expression, Park Sion let out a light laugh. The moment he smiled like that, the insult you crazy bastard just dissolved on my tongue. How can someone smile so prettily?
But being amazed by his pretty face and going along with his crazy antics were two different things. I frowned and gave him a firm look. As soon as I got serious, Park Sion looked downcast. He lowered his eyes, fidgeting with my fingers as he asked:
“Who’s gonna get hurt if we hold hands?”
“No one.”
“Are we bothering anyone?”
“No, it’s just…”
Park Sion looked genuinely serious. Why was he doing this when I clearly didn’t want to hold hands? If he didn’t, that’d be the end of it—but why go this far, even making that kind of face?
Come to think of it, he always made that same expression whenever I drew a line between us. If I let this go, I’d fall right into the trap of his twisted logic again. Sure, it was kind of my thing to silently put up with all his boundary-crossing, but that didn’t mean I could accept everything. Even between friends, there should be lines that aren’t crossed.
So just this once, I decided to put my foot down.
“This isn’t about whether we’re hurting anyone.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
I was speechless. It’s just common sense. What he was asking for was absurd. We’re not dating—so why the hell would two guys go around holding hands? The more something is accepted as “common sense,” the harder it is to actually explain why it makes sense. So instead, a bunch of unfiltered thoughts started tumbling out of my mouth.
“Culturally, guys don’t… hold hands. Like, as friends, that’s not a thing. It’s just—just weird…”
“And since when was that a cultural rule?”
“Forget culture. People would think it’s weird. That’s all I’m saying. There’s just no reason to go around holding hands.”
“Of course there is. I want to.”
That’s exactly the problem, you lunatic. The fact that you want to hold your friend’s hand is what’s not normal. You’re ignoring every single social norm!
Even with me staring at him like he was out of his mind, Park Sion just looked unimpressed.
“My sister always walks around holding hands with her friend.”
“Yeah, girls do that.”
“Hmmm.”
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“So it’s okay for girls but not guys?”
“……”
“That’s not a bias?”
I couldn’t think of a single argument to counter that last line. KO. I’d lost. I had no choice but to shut up, bitterly. Maybe Park Sion was right. Maybe every bias does wear the mask of common sense. I mean, why can’t guys hold hands? It’s not like it hurts anyone. No one dies.
And yet… it still felt wrong. That unease sat in my gut without shape or reason. So I gave up trying to explain it logically.
“So that means I can hold your hand now, right?”
His lips curled into a subtle smile. The moment I gave the tiniest nod, his fingers laced through mine. I gave in, but just like he said, I was a hopelessly narrow-minded, judgmental guy—I kept glancing around. Luckily, no one seemed to care.
The sun was still up, casting a gentle heat from above. It was full-on summer now. The breeze carried a hint of humidity, making it hard to tell whether the warmth I felt was from my own hand or his. Most surprising of all, holding Park Sion’s hand… didn’t feel that bad. I just let my arm hang loosely.
“What time do you have to go?”
“Go where?”
“Didn’t you say you had something this evening?”
“Oh, that. I don’t have to go.”
I almost said, Shin Jaeyoung will throw a fit, but kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t like Park Sion would care even slightly what Shin Jaeyoung thought.
We walked silently, still holding hands. Then Park Sion hailed a taxi. Even inside the cab, our hands stayed linked. It wasn’t until we got home that he finally let go, and even then it felt reluctant. Taking advantage of the moment, I bolted straight for the bathroom.
While washing my hands, I caught my reflection in the mirror—my face was a little red. Can’t blame me. I gave in to that absurd logic and held hands, and I still didn’t understand either of us—him for wanting to, me for letting him. I splashed cold water on my face over and over.
“You missed a spot.”
The moment I stepped out, Park Sion wiped the water from my cheek with his hand.
Wow. I mean, seriously, I know I’m a mess, but Park Sion, you are something else. He does the most spine-chilling shit without batting an eye.
“Does your sister wipe her friend’s face too?”
He gave me a sweet little smile. “Maybe.”
So is excessive physical contact a family tradition, or is he just messing with me?
Anyway, we were inside now, with no one to see us. I didn’t stop him. It was obvious that pushing back would only lead to more trouble, and I didn’t feel like overthinking it anymore.
Now that we were home, there wasn’t much to do. Normally I’d study, but since exams were over, I didn’t even want to look at a workbook. We lay around on the couch, chatting about nothing, and eventually ordered chicken when we got hungry. After eating, the natural thing to do was lie down again. We sprawled out on the couch, heads in opposite directions, watching some mindless variety show.
Outside, it was already getting dark. Streetlights glowed yellow through the windows. I figured it was probably about time for Park Sion to head home, so I glanced over. He was lying there with his phone, texting someone. Probably Shin Jaeyoung.
“Shin Jaeyoung?”
“Yeah.”
“Shouldn’t you go? Even now?”
“Not going.”
He frowned slightly as he answered, then pointed toward my phone on the table.
“Looks like you’ve been getting messages too.”
My eyes followed his finger. Sure enough, the screen kept lighting up. I hadn’t even noticed—I’d had it on silent. Two missed calls, and about twenty texts. All from Kim Youngjin.
[You bastard traitor, I lost rank because of you]
[Don’t bring Park Sion next time, I’ll kill you both]
[Park Sion’s a fucking bitch]
[Why aren’t you picking up?]
[Are you ignoring me? Answer your fucking phone]
[You still with Park Sion?]
[You’re both fucking insane]
[Hey when are we playing again]
[When are you free]
[You promised to carry me to Master, right?]
[If you don’t, you’re fucking dead]
[Please don’t bring that psycho Park Sion again]
[U ignoring me?]
[You fucking ignoring me??]
[Carry me to Master pls ㅠㅜㅜ]
[Hyungnim plssssss boost meㅠㅠㅠㅠ]
Even without him here, it was like I could hear Youngjin’s voice. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or begging. His emotions were all over the place. What a ridiculous bastard. I chuckled and quickly shot him a reply.
[ㅇㅇ sorry about earlier]
[I’ll get you to Master, don’t worry]
Almost instantly, he replied:
[When? When are you free?]
[Let’s go to the PC bang after the end-of-term ceremony]
[If you bail, you’re dead lol]
[ㅇㅇ]
[You still with Park Sion?]
[Then tell him to hurry the fuck up]
“He says to hurry the fuck up.”
“Who is it?”
“Kim Youngjin.”
Park Sion rested his chin on my shoulder and silently stared down at the screen. I hurried to send a flood of emojis to push Youngjin’s earlier messages—the ones where he called Park Sion a psycho—out of view. But despite my efforts, Park Sion had clearly already seen everything.
From beside my exposed neck, I heard him laugh. His fingers slid over mine, still holding the phone. Just like that, he started reading through the whole pointless exchange between me and Youngjin.
“You really don’t have to skip it for me. I mean, if you wanted to go—”
“You’re close with Kim Youngjin?”
He cut me off just as I was about to suggest we could still go meet Shin Jaeyoung and Youngjin, since there was nothing else to do at home.
“Do you like him?”
He tossed my phone into the corner of the couch and asked again. His tone made it sound like he genuinely couldn’t understand the situation.
“What?”
“Didn’t you hate him at first?”
His head tilted slightly, like he was testing me. The question didn’t come off as idle curiosity—it was rigid, almost cold. A moment later, his voice hit its usual arrogant pitch, striking directly at my weak point.
“You didn’t even treat him like a person at first.”
Saying I didn’t treat Youngjin like a person was extreme, but it was true that I used to hate him for being rude and idiotic. I didn’t have the guts to confront him, so I just faked civility while mocking him in my head.
But people have different sides, and Youngjin was no exception. Up close, he turned out to be a little dumb but genuinely good-natured.
“I did at first, but not anymore.”
That was my answer for why my attitude had flipped. But apparently the whole ‘that was then, this is now’ line didn’t satisfy Park Sion, because he leaned back against the couch and furrowed his brow. I ended up adding more, like someone trying to justify themselves.
“He’s not sly. He’s not twisted or anything.”
A faint laugh drifted past my ears. The smile that followed didn’t look happy.
“So basically, you like that he’s too dumb to hide anything.”
He was twisting my words, but… at the core, he wasn’t wrong. I had dismissed Youngjin as an idiot. Still, I’d take an open book over a cunning liar any day. I couldn’t stand people who deceive and manipulate—it made my skin crawl.
“Yeah. But he’s also surprisingly thoughtful.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than Park Sion scoffed. I had no idea what part of that was funny.
“You think I’m joking?”
“Not really.”
“Then why’d you laugh?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he straightened my legs and laid his head down on my thigh. His hair brushed against the thin fabric of my pants, making my leg twitch.
He took my wandering arm and placed it on his head. Strands of his hair slipped gently between my fingers. There was a faint smile in his half-lidded eyes. Then he tapped my chin lightly and asked,
“I’m not the open-book type, am I?”
Yeah. I nodded, appreciating the rare moment of self-awareness from him.
Two completely incompatible traits existed within Park Sion. He really was a walking contradiction. He had these weirdly sweet sides, but he could also be distant, even cold. He acted like he was being considerate, but in the end, he always did things his own way. His kindness was always self-centered, always one-sided.
Still, I couldn’t deny that that one-sided kindness comforted me. Park Sion’s hands were sometimes cold, sometimes warm.
“Unlike Youngjin, I’m all twisted up and hard to read.”
His long fingers gently wrapped around my arm. Our eyes met. I blinked slowly and replied.
“Yeah, you’re a different type from Youngjin.”
“So… do you not like me?”
“It’s not that. You’re just… hard to figure out.”
“You mean I make you uncomfortable?”
“No. More like it’s hard to understand what kind of person you are.”
Youngjin was simple and rough around the edges. You could describe him with short sentences. Subject, verb, period. But Park Sion wasn’t like that. His personality, his tendencies—they were all blurred. He kept slipping past the lines I tried to draw. I couldn’t pin him down.
But I didn’t think he was a hypocrite. At least not with me.
At first, I thought he had some hidden agenda. But I’m not exactly a valuable asset. Who in their right mind would strategically choose me as a friend?
So when Park Sion reached out to me, it must’ve been genuine. Maybe his true nature—what little of it I’d seen—wasn’t so cold after all.
“You not gonna try to figure me out?”
“I’m trying.”
“How?”
“Dunno. I just… think about it.”
“Hm.”
He made a show of pretending to take that seriously. After a long silence, he finally spoke again.
“You’ll have to try harder. Thinking’s not enough. You have to…”
He suddenly sat up and looked me square in the eye. His long fingers brushed my chin, just for a second. Our eyes locked. It was hard to look away.
“Look at me.”
“……”
“Ask me questions. That’s the only way you’ll learn the parts of me you don’t know.”
You can’t uncover someone’s true nature by thinking alone. You can’t see past the surface unless you face them directly. You have to willingly meet each other where you both hide. And right now, Park Sion was offering me that first step.
In that moment, a riddle I hadn’t even realized was there quietly began to unfold.