I safely reached Youngjin’s classroom and spotted him sitting in the back row. Come to think of it, this was the first time I’d ever come looking for Youngjin first. He was acting strangely serious for once. When some guys asked if he wanted to go play soccer, he waved them off like it was a hassle. His expression looked dark.
"Hey, Kim Youngjin."
When I called his name, he jerked his head up. His eyes widened when he saw me standing there. His unusually long legs were sticking way out from under the desk. I gave them a light kick.
"You haven’t even eaten lunch—aren’t you hungry? Here, eat this."
I placed a pizza bun, a sausage, and a green grape juice on his desk one by one. Youngjin just watched me with his mouth slightly open. His face reflected a tangle of emotions that couldn’t be summed up with a single word. It felt strange. A complicated-looking Kim Youngjin—it was an oxymoron on the level of hot frappuccino.
"You…"
"I heard you had enteritis. Is that true? If so, at least drink the digestive tonic."
"…"
"But judging by the hot bars you’ve been scarfing down, I’m guessing you don’t. What’s going on with you?"
I gently tapped his shoulder. Still dazed, he said nothing, just looking flustered. I sat down in the empty seat next to him. Youngjin lowered his head, avoiding my eyes. Something really must’ve happened. I studied his darkened, shadowy face. The lower his head sank, the more it felt like he was trying to disappear.
"Kim Youngjin, what’s wrong? Did something happen?"
"…"
"You can’t tell me? Is that it?"
His jaw was trembling. Shit—was he about to cry? Alarmed, I placed a hand on his shoulder. He let out a long sigh and buried his face in his palms.
"What the—are you crying?"
"No."
"Lift your head for a second."
I forcibly pulled his large hands away from his face. Thankfully, he wasn’t crying. He just looked like he could burst into tears at any moment. Youngjin bit down on his lips over and over, grinding his teeth. He looked angry, sad, and frustrated all at once. I didn’t think he was the kind of guy who even had that many emotions.
"Yoon Seonwoo."
Youngjin suddenly said my name. He was still staring straight ahead. Then he clenched his fists tightly and turned to me. He opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to say something. After several shallow sighs, he finally spoke.
"I believe you."
"What?"
I blinked, startled by how out-of-nowhere that was.
"I mean… I don’t know about anyone else, but I believe you."
"Why are you suddenly saying this…"
"I believe you didn’t assault Kim Shinju. I believe you’re not a pervert."
"…"
"You’re a good guy. A good friend."
He said that while glancing over each of the snacks I’d brought.
Every word out of his mouth was exactly what I had longed to hear. I had wished—desperately—that someone would say this to me. But I couldn’t just feel grateful. The timing was too abrupt. The words didn’t fit the situation at all.
"…Thanks. I mean it. But why are you saying this now?"
"Yoon Seonwoo."
He said my name again. His heavy gaze and serious tone didn’t match him at all. He held my wrist.
"Come here for a second."
Before I could object, he pulled me to the back of the classroom. It was lunch, so the room was relatively empty. A few classmates glanced at us, but no one paid attention for long. I just stared at Youngjin, who was holding my wrist and looking oddly intense. I wanted to know what the hell he was thinking.
"What are you doing?"
"Try pulling your hand free from mine."
"What the hell—ouch! Ow, fuck, that hurts!"
Suddenly, Youngjin gripped my wrist hard. I twisted my arm, trying to escape, but the more I moved, the worse the pain got.
"If you try to use just one hand, it won’t work. Use your free hand to grab the trapped one, extend one leg forward, bend your knees slightly, and yank your wrist inward toward your body."
"What the fuck are you doing out of nowhere?"
"Just try it, hurry."
I reluctantly moved the way he instructed. Isn’t this that self-defense stuff girls learn? What the hell is he teaching me this for? To make matters worse, even when I followed his directions, I still couldn’t get my wrist free. The pain kept intensifying.
"It’s not working."
"You have to shift your weight forward and brace yourself."
"I said it’s not working! What the hell’s wrong with you, you dumb brute?"
Only after hearing my frustrated voice did Youngjin release me. My wrist had a vivid red mark on it.
"Okay, that didn’t work. If your wrist gets grabbed, it is what it is. Let’s try something else."
"What the fuck, what’s wrong with you? Did you take something?"
"I’m a second-degree black belt in hapkido."
"Did I ask? Why are you even teaching me this?"
"…What if another bastard like Kim Shinju comes after you?"
He looked like he was about to cry as he said that. What the hell had he heard?
"You met Kim Shinju? Is that why you’re acting like this?"
He lowered his head again. My stomach churned. What the hell was that bastard saying out there?
"Did he say he’s coming after me again?"
"…"
"Say something. You have to have a reason for acting like this out of nowhere."
"…Can’t you just trust me and learn it? Just this once?"
Youngjin winked at me. Then his face contorted like he was about to cry again. I was weak to this kind of expression—this quietly miserable look. If someone came at me looking all gloomy and pitiful, I couldn’t stay sharp. Park Sion, this bastard—why do they all pull this pitiful act in front of me? They’re both stronger and bigger than me.
Since I didn’t say anything, Youngjin stepped closer. Then he suddenly pulled me into a hug.
"Sorry. Just let me hug you once."
"Fuck off, would you?"
"Yoon Seonwoo. Listen to me carefully."
He held my shoulders and spoke.
"If someone suddenly hugs you like this, extend both hands and strike the neck. Yell all the curse words you want later. Aim for the pressure point on the side of the neck, not the center. That way, even if you’re cornered, you can escape."
He wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around the back of my head, pulling me in tight. I was completely locked in his embrace. His breath hit my neck. It tickled. And then—those memories I’d tried to bury came rushing back.
Disgusting. Suffocating. Slimy and vile. The memory of Kim Shinju pinning me down and mocking me replayed vividly in my mind. My spine froze. I felt like vomiting. The heavy pressure, the hot breath pressed against my lower body—
Panicking, I started thrashing wildly. But the more I struggled, the tighter Youngjin held me.
"Calm down, Seonwoo. Strike the neck. Use one hand to support the other and push hard into the side of my neck. Then break free."
It wasn’t until I heard Youngjin’s familiar voice that I stopped flailing.
Right. This isn’t Kim Shinju hugging me. It’s dumb, clumsy Youngjin. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Thankfully, his touch held no trace of desire. I steadied my breath. I placed one hand over the other and, just as he instructed, pushed into the side of his neck. But would something like this really stop a bastard determined to hurt me? I couldn’t break free again.
"Try again. You’re not hitting hard because it’s me. Don’t worry about me—go all in. If it doesn’t work, bite my ear. If it really comes down to it, kick me in the crotch. Turn me into a eunuch."
Youngjin gritted his teeth and pulled me closer. Just as I tried again to push his neck away—
BANG! CRASH!
Someone grabbed Youngjin by the back of the neck. His large frame slammed into the floor. A loud, meaty thud echoed as someone kicked him in the stomach. Then a cold voice scraped against my ear.
"Fucking bastard. Who the hell said you could touch him."
And standing before me—wearing an expression I’d never seen before—was Park Sion. His face was blank, chillingly devoid of emotion, and his eyes shifted between me and the collapsed Youngjin with a razor-sharp glare. He let out a thin, bitter laugh, then proceeded to kick Youngjin’s stomach again, and again.
"Park Sion!"
My voice rang in my ears like tinnitus, raw with shock.
"Fucking hell, Park Sion, you crazy motherfucker—"
Suddenly kicked by Park Sion, Kim Youngjin clenched his teeth and glared up at him. Just as he tried to lift his torso to retaliate, a long leg shoved his shoulder backward. Losing his balance, Youngjin let out a groan and collapsed back onto the floor. He didn’t get another chance to stand. Every time he tried to raise himself, another unhesitating kick followed.
Park Sion approached Youngjin, who was clutching his stomach. Then he calmly raised his foot and stomped on Youngjin’s hand.
“Aagh!”
“Youngjin, you wanna lose your fingers? Should I cut them off for you?”
The cold bloodlust on his face as he twisted his foot slowly into Youngjin’s hand made it clear—this wasn’t a fight. It was a one-sided beating. I rushed toward Park Sion.
“Park Sion!”
Before I could even register the situation, the only thought in my head was that I had to stop him first. I grabbed his waist and tried to pull him back, but he didn’t budge.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy?”
“Let go.”
“Take your foot off! You psycho, I said take it off!”
When I yelled, Park Sion slowly lifted his foot from Youngjin’s hand. He turned his head and looked at me. His cold stare pierced through me. That glare that looked like it wanted to tear me apart suddenly softened. With a chilling smile in his eyes, he spoke.
“You said you hate lies. But you’re real good at telling them.”
He removed my arms from his waist. Hearing his voice so calm and composed made cold sweat seep from my palms.
“You said you were going to the teacher’s office.”
“……”
“So why the hell are you here, cozying up with some other bastard?”
The wrist he grabbed throbbed in pain. I swallowed the whimper rising between my teeth.
“Let go.”
“Why? So you can run back to that piece of shit?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Park Sion’s pitch-black eyes grew colder by the second. He looked so unfamiliar that all I could say was the dumb, obvious question—what’s wrong with you? You’ve never acted like this before. Why are you being so scary? I barely managed to swallow the words rising in my throat and forced myself to sound calm.
“Calm down. I’ll explain everything.”
At that moment, Youngjin stood up from the floor and approached Park Sion.
“You fucking trash. Let go of him. Get away from Yoon Seonwoo!”
“Still not done getting your ass beat, huh?”
“Let go!”
Yelling, Youngjin kicked Park Sion in the side. His face twisted in pain. Youngjin then forcefully pulled me away from him. The sudden tug made me stumble as I lost my balance. A strong arm caught me. Like a bodyguard, Youngjin placed me behind him.
“Hah… you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Park Sion laughed like he couldn’t believe it. Youngjin stood in front of me, blocking my view. With his large frame in front of me, my vision was cut off. Youngjin panted heavily. He seemed to be in pain—his posture started to falter, probably from the hit to his stomach. I caught a glimpse of his hand—his fingers were a mess.
“Come here, Yoon Seonwoo.”
Amid Youngjin’s ragged breathing, a cold voice rang out.
“Fuck, I said get over here. You deaf?”
The sharp screech of chairs scraping across the floor echoed loudly. Park Sion had kicked over a chair and was glaring at me from behind Youngjin with murderous eyes. Just then, Youngjin yelled.
“I—I don’t believe you!”
He reached behind him, pulling me closer, his voice trembling as he spoke.
“I can’t trust you…”
“Youngjin, you dumb fuck.”
Park Sion brushed off his school shirt and called out mockingly. His footsteps drew closer. Standing before Youngjin, Park Sion towered over him as Youngjin clutched his stomach. Like he was trying to subdue a subordinate, Park Sion pressed down on Youngjin’s thick shoulders. Then, with long fingers, he pushed against Youngjin’s temple repeatedly.
“I told you, didn’t I? You’re not good at using your head. So why do you keep trying when you don’t even have the brains for it?”
“Fuck you… I’ll kill you.”
“Sorry, but this shit you’re doing is just making things harder for Seonwoo.”
“Ugh…”
“You even realize that?”
Park Sion leaned down and whispered low enough that only Youngjin could hear. At his words, Youngjin froze.
“You planning to air all this out in front of the whole class? Who do you think’s really gonna get fucked if you do that?”
“……”
“Jesus, if you’re dumb, don’t act tough. Fucking idiot.”
Youngjin turned to look at me, his face drained of color. I could see his pupils quiver. The strength in his hand, which had been gripping my wrist, slowly faded.
I turned to look at Park Sion. His expression wasn’t normal. He looked calm on the surface, but his clenched fists were trembling. He could’ve punched Youngjin in the face right then, and no one would’ve been surprised.
I quickly stepped between them. I shielded the slumped Youngjin behind me and opened my trembling mouth.
“Stop it. What the hell are you even doing?”
“And you—didn’t you hear me when I said come here?”
My shoulders flinched instinctively. I had to get out of this situation. I grabbed Youngjin’s arm behind me and spoke.
“Kim Youngjin, let’s go to the nurse’s office first. Park Sion, you and I—we’ll talk later. Just us.”
I avoided Sion’s gaze as I tugged Youngjin’s arm. His legs were giving out, and he leaned into me. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and started walking.
A tense silence hung in the air. It was only a moment, but the tension was thick enough to make me swallow hard. Just as I passed Park Sion, he grabbed my wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His voice trembled like he was suppressing something. His hand shook as it clutched mine. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear, but the raw emotion seeped through his skin.
“Hey, you guys help him.”
Park Sion barked toward the guys sitting in the back. A few of them cautiously approached. I tightened my grip on Youngjin’s shoulder, but he shoved my hand away without looking at me.
“Don’t touch me. I’ll go on my own.”
He shoved away the hands reaching out to help. With his twisted expression, Youngjin walked farther and farther away. I didn’t stop him. Park Sion was gripping my arm hard enough to break it.
“Stop looking.”
“Let me go… Hey! Youngjin!”
“Look at me!”
Park Sion grabbed my jaw roughly and forced me to turn away from the back door.
“Enough with the friendship bullshit. Don’t push me.”
His gritted voice drilled into my ears. It was quiet enough that no one else could hear, but it was more than enough to choke me. His oddly still eyes darkened. That cold winter sky look in his eyes made me recoil without realizing it. Through the muttering voices and the noisy shuffle of the class, the clear bell of the fifth-period chime rang out.
***
I didn’t say a single word to Park Sion for the rest of class. I could feel his persistent stare brushing against my cheek from time to time, but I forced myself to ignore it. For the first time, I felt afraid of the person sitting next to me. Not just because I’d seen him beat the crap out of Youngjin right in front of me. This fear was more primal than that.
Park Sion had always been cold to others—but warm and gentle only to me. His sharp gaze had never once been aimed at me. I had always been his exception. Like he said—I was special.
There were parts of him he never showed to anyone else. A fragile vulnerability, a quiet warmth meant only for me. I believed those were glimpses of the real Park Sion, the parts only I could see. So even if he wasn’t objectively a good or honest person, I was sure that to me, he was a good one.
But today, I saw a side of him I didn’t know. That look in his eyes as he stared at Youngjin like he was dirt—it wouldn’t leave me.
This unfamiliarity terrifies me. I’m scared that I might discover more sides of him I didn’t know. The Park Sion I thought I knew now feels like a mirage.
As soon as class ended, I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the room. I didn’t want to face him with this feeling. Fear makes people act stupid. And besides, I was worried about Youngjin, who said he was leaving early.
Normally, Park Sion would’ve stopped me. But even as I stood up first, he just sat there, motionless. Only his gaze followed me persistently all the way out of the classroom.
“Hey, Yoon Seonwoo.”
As I walked down the hall, Shin Jaeyoung called out to me. He approached with an unreadable expression and ran a hand through his hair. The sunlight pouring through the windows reflected off the watch on his wrist.
“Don’t go looking for Youngjin.”
“What’s it to you?”
“Just listen to me. I’m saying this for your own good.”
Looking annoyed, Shin Jaeyoung furrowed his brows. He kept glancing toward the back door of the classroom like he was checking for something.