Winter Season Chapter 22

Yihyeon, letting out a groan belatedly, clamped his lips together tightly before roughly brushing away the drops of blood to keep them from staining the remaining fliers. He reached out with the papers toward the crowd beginning to pour out of the subway station again, but people only passed him by, hands shoved deep into their pockets while avoiding his gaze.

“Ugh… Yihyeon, let’s just stop here. It’s so cold I can’t stand to do this anymore.”

It was around then that his body swayed slightly from a sudden weight pressing against his back.

Looking behind him, a man wearing a black long padded coat zipped all the way up to his chin was leaning against him as if hugging him. Shivering, the man pressed the hot packs he had been shaking firmly against both of Yihyeon’s ears.

“…Hyung, you said we had to hand all of these out today. I saw a lot left behind the desk earlier.”

“Ah, I don’t know. If it really doesn’t work out, I’ll just give them to the snack stall owner in front of here to use as tongs for the hotteok. Ugh, fuck. It’s so cold I can’t do this anymore, it’s too cold.”

The man grumbled that in reality, posting a single body profile on social media was more effective than this sort of thing anyway. As he went to take the fliers Yihyeon was holding, his eyes widened at the sight of the long scratch on Yihyeon’s clean fingers.

“What’s this? Are you hurt?”

“Ah… I just got scratched a bit.”

“Your hands are all chapped, too. See, I told you I’d give you gloves.”

The man fumbled with various parts of Yihyeon’s hands while wearing a slight frown. Feeling unnecessarily awkward, Yihyeon tried to pull his hands away by making a fist, but he couldn’t because the man suggestively traced the soft skin between his fingers and interlaced their hands.

“Look at how they’ve turned all red because the weather is so cold.”

The man pulled his lips up into a satisfied smile at the sight of Yihyeon standing there obediently with his eyes—thick with lashes—cast down. He then moved his hand toward Yihyeon’s earlobe, which was tinged red from the biting air.

When Yihyeon flinched at the ticklish sensation touching the fine hairs, the man’s smile deepened. He already knew that spot was Yihyeon’s erogenous zone.

“Hey, Yihyeon. Since the weather is cold, should we go to hyung’s officetel and have a midday drink? Anyway, you said you aren’t going to work in the evenings anymore.”

A heavy hand gripped his shoulder firmly along with the suggestive tone. Yihyeon looked up at the man briefly, then lowered his gaze and lightly pressed down on the scratch remaining on his fingertip. It wasn’t bleeding, but a stinging pain rose from beneath the skin.

…Should I go.

He had left a few more messages for Subin over the past few days, but no answer had come back. After realizing that Subin was specifically avoiding his contact, he had stopped even that.

He had thought he should keep his distance, but once the person he used to communicate with actually disappeared, it was inevitable that things became quiet and lonely.

It wasn’t that he wanted to drink, but he didn’t want to go into an empty house. That was why he had agreed to the request to help promote the fliers and had been dragged around here and there in the first place. To Yihyeon, who had been tamed by the noisy nights of the club for several years, a house empty at dawn was far too silent.

Buzz.

Just as he was about to ask if the officetel was far from here, a short vibration rang out from his pocket. Checking his phone, a single message had popped up on the screen.

[Kwon Yihyeon, you said you quit the club, right? What are you doing now. If you have nothing to do, come out for a bit. I came to your neighborhood for work, and it looks like it’ll be over soon.]

Seeing the name written as Yeo Eun-ho, a hollow laugh escaped him in spite of himself. It was because the way Eun-ho was still so self-centered was exactly the same as in high school. Yihyeon contemplated for a moment before opening his mouth toward the man.

“Hyung, I’m sorry. I have an appointment today.”

“Really? Who is it. If it’s someone I know too, tell them to eat with us. Hyung will buy the drinks.”

“It’s a high school friend who said they’re nearby. Let’s have drinks next time.”

The man looked at Yihyeon with lingering regret before finally giving an answer that he understood. Instead of saying anything more, Yihyeon handed the fliers to the man. He merely gave a faint smile to the ritualistic parting words of, “Have fun and get home safe. Stay in touch.”

After parting with the man, Yihyeon entered a cafe near his house and took a seat at a corner table, leaving the part-timer’s dry greeting behind him.

It was a position where his body was half-hidden by a large potted plant with drooping leaves. A chilly draft was slowly seeping in from the large glass wall right next to him.

He had arrived earlier than the appointment. After sitting for a few minutes while vacantly watching the people passing by outside the window, the vibration bell in his hand rang out with a noisy sound. Yihyeon went to receive the tray with a hot Americano and held the receipt in his hand instead of the cup.

After thinking for a long time while fiddling with the thin receipt paper, the conclusion he reached was that quitting the club work might actually be a good thing. He would have struggled quite a bit to reverse his switched day and night schedule during a semester that was bound to be hectic anyway.

The problem was money, but thinking about it carefully, it seemed he could cover the lack of living expenses and material costs during the semester with a part-time job. His body would be a bit tired balancing it with assignments, but it was fine. Thinking about returning to school after a long time made him feel as if he could do anything.

Yihyeon set the receipt, which he had crumpled and folded into the shape of a note, down on one side of the tray. Turning his gaze back out the window, a clear, rarely blue sky without a single speck of dust caught his eye. He felt as if his usually dry mood was becoming excited for the first time in a while.

I should tell Yeo Eun-ho that I’m returning to school. He’ll be happy to hear it.

Eun-ho was the one who had persuaded Yihyeon several times to just graduate first, saying he would lend him the tuition money. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to reach out to a friend, so he refused until the end, but Eun-ho must still have been bothered by it, as he would often bring it up whenever they drank.

Tap, tap, tap. While he was staring outside and hitting the mug with his fingernails, a loud noise, buzz, erupted from the phone he had placed on the table. Yihyeon, who looked down at his phone with a slight narrowing of his brow, stopped moving when he saw the name floating in the center of the screen.

[Mom]

“…”

The unpleasant noise of the phone hitting the tray with a clatter-rattle continued. Someone at a distant table looked around as if trying to find the source of the noise, but Yihyeon couldn’t take any action, as if he were frozen.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

The vibration continued without stopping.

While he couldn’t take his eyes off the glowing screen, his solar plexus felt stifled, as if the good mood he had felt just a moment ago were a dream. He felt as if his breath were being cut off, like someone was gripping his chest tightly.

[Mom]

Seeing the name that had appeared, Yihyeon unconsciously chewed on the inside of his cheek. Mom. Are these two syllables—which even a child just starting to learn to speak can easily utter—such an uncomfortable word?

While he was just staring at the screen, the call ended and the background screen returned. However, before he could even exhale his clumped breath, a display appeared indicating that another call was coming in.

He couldn’t feign ignorance any longer. He moistened his lips once and pressed the call button.

“…Hello.”

The locked voice sounded awkward even to himself. The person on the other end must have felt similarly, as there was no word for a while before they cleared their throat and finally spat out a single sentence.

— Uh… Yihyeon. It’s Mom.

When he gave a short reply of “Yes,” an awkward silence crossed through the phone. She hesitated as if wavering over something before finally offering a simple greeting.

— The weather is cold; are you eating well?

Instead of answering, Yihyeon blinked slowly. Perhaps because it was the first time he had heard it in years, the characteristically soft voice coming through the phone felt exceptionally unfamiliar. Picking up the crumpled receipt again, he answered in a voice that was barely audible.

“Yes.”

— Yes… Right. That’s a relief.

He waited for words to follow, but the other party was silent once again. An awkward stillness settled beneath the sound of their breathing.

She couldn’t have called just to ask whether or not I’ve eaten. Yihyeon, who swallowed dryly, couldn’t take it anymore and parted his lips first.

“What is it?”

— …Yihyeon.

She let out a sigh as if she had been waiting for Yihyeon’s question. She seemed to be agonizing over something. Yihyeon didn’t rush her and only fiddled with the receipt. The rustling sound seemed to be exceptionally loud.

— Your dad told me not to tell you, but I thought you should know too, Yihyeon…

“…”