A Scorching Day Chapter 10

“…What?”

Gawon looked at Ki Joon, who was sitting in front of him with a perfectly casual face, with a bewildered expression.

Like a remote island in a far-off corner, Gawon had been sitting alone at a four-person table when Ki Joon sat down in front of him without warning, looking considerably flustered.

In fact, ever since yesterday when he’d asked Gawon to eat together and been turned down, he’d wanted to sit right in front of Gawon like this. But unfortunately, the homeroom teacher had called him to ask about some transfer paperwork, and his plan had fallen through.

After fending off the kids clinging to him to eat together and heading down to the cafeteria late, Gawon had already finished his meal. Ki Joon could only stare blankly at Gawon’s back as he was clearing his tray.

Ki Joon had always been popular, and he was aware of it himself. His attractive looks, overwhelmingly tall height, easygoing personality, athleticism, and generous pocket money were the main factors that excited his classmates.

He was always surrounded by kids without even trying, and as a result, he had almost no experience of being rejected by anyone.

But Yoon Gawon alone consistently pushed him away. His usual gaze seemed weary with helplessness or steeped in melancholy, yet whenever he dealt with Ki Joon, his eyes sharpened with intensity.

Even when Ki Joon approached with his patented sly but likable expression, Gawon would flinch and soften only for a moment before immediately pushing Ki Joon away with the coldest tone and eyes imaginable.

He was dumbfounded. His pride was a little bruised, too. Yet Ki Joon kept nuzzling up to Yoon Gawon like a dog pressing its head against a scolding owner—because Gawon’s rejection never felt genuinely sincere.

Yoon Gawon looked like someone who pushed away because he had to, because there was no other choice. He tried to hide it with a cold, relentless tone, but Ki Joon keenly sensed those undercurrents.

Beneath the thick layers surrounding that kid, he could see a self thirsty for attention. Ki Joon had caught it like a tracking dog—the moment when Gawon’s transparent eyes rippled with a violent surge upon hearing his name called.

Such clues kept adding layer upon layer of fondness for Gawon, gradually increasing its thickness, bit by bit. Even Ki Joon himself didn’t clearly know the reason.

Yoon Gawon resembled his cat, Sunny. The initial reason he’d felt drawn to him was simply that. A trivial, insignificant reason.

But unexpectedly, his fondness for Gawon was growing in a direction Ki Joon hadn’t anticipated. It was arbitrarily swelling in size and beginning to change its nature ever so slightly.

So Ki Joon wanted to know. The reason he was inexplicably drawn to this kid. Since mysteries always brought discomfort, Ki Joon chose to break through head-on by approaching Gawon.

“I told you yesterday. I always eat alone, remember?”

Of course, Yoon Gawon was not easy, as always. At his sharp, chilly tone, Ki Joon drooped his eyebrows and put on a pitiful expression.

“Just let me eat with you today. I get bored eating alone.”

“Hah…”

Letting out a deep sigh, the kid dropped his gaze to his tray as if resigned. Ki Joon had expected him to argue that there were other kids to eat with, or to pick up his tray and move elsewhere, but surprisingly, Gawon didn’t. Just that alone made Ki Joon a little delighted, and he beamed.

“Eat a lot, Gawon.”

“…You too.”

When he greeted the kid with a warm look in his eyes, a reluctant, small reply came back. Hearing that gruff, short response, Ki Joon was convinced once again—Gawon definitely didn’t truly dislike him.

Ki Joon stole glances at Gawon as he ate. He was bowed over his meal, expressionless, continuing to eat.

With his mouth closed and chewing, he looked exactly like a rabbit diligently nibbling on something like clover. Thinking that, Ki Joon nearly let out a snicker, but he covered his mouth with his hand and barely held it in. This seat had been so hard-won; he couldn’t get chased away already.

A clean and solitary gaze, expecting nothing. His slanted-down eyes were so utterly empty. But the moment Gawon casually lifted his eyes and looked at Ki Joon’s tray, color flickered briefly in that hollow gaze.

“…Can you eat all of that?”

“Huh? Of course.”

Although Gawon was clearly astonished at the mountain of food piled on Ki Joon’s tray… still, it was better than a completely expressionless face. Ki Joon grinned.

“Why? Because I look like a pig?”

“No… it’s not that, I just thought you’d get full.”

“I’ve always eaten a lot. Been training since I was young.”

Ki Joon met Gawon’s eyes and smiled brightly. He didn’t know why, but just looking at Gawon made him want to smile like that.

He hadn’t said it expecting an answer. Gawon wasn’t the talkative type, and he knew that Gawon didn’t have even a tenth of the curiosity about him that other kids did.

“…What sport do you do?”

So when Gawon’s cautious question came back, Ki Joon couldn’t help but be surprised. His eyes went round, and he swallowed the rice he’d been chewing.

“Me? Mixed martial arts.”

“Do you do it because it’s fun?”

“Yeah, of course.”

A gentle smile spread across Ki Joon’s face. His eyes sparkled as if dreaming. The thrilling anticipation he felt wearing headgear in the ring, the addictive sensation flowing through his body when clashing with males of similar build—just imagining it made him happy and excited.

“You’re lucky.”

Then, Gawon’s small voice came through. Ki Joon tilted his head slightly and looked at him.

“Why?”

“Because you can… beat up all the guys you don’t like.”

The kid said that without smiling.

It must be nice to be able to just beat anyone up. Kids surrounding Ki Joon would often say that, casting admiring glances. Whenever he heard kids dismiss his beloved sport as crude and cheap, Ki Joon felt displeased.

But the words from Gawon’s mouth felt a little different. He immediately recalled the scene of Gawon being helplessly beaten by that bastard Heo—whatever his name was. It didn’t seem like the bullying had only been going on for a day or two.

“…That bastard who was causing a scene in the back of the classroom last time.”

For some reason, his chest felt a little tight. Ki Joon spoke heavily.

“You mean that bastard, right.”

His voice dropped low. Gawon, who had been quietly fixing his gaze on his tray, slowly shook his head.

“No. Never mind about me.”

“…”

The gaze that had briefly held life lost its strength and dropped down. Ki Joon’s eyes lingered on Gawon’s tray, where the food remained almost untouched, unlike his own almost-empty tray.

“Hmm… Actually, people who train can’t just go around hitting others recklessly.”

A small wish—that color might return to Gawon’s eyes—opened Ki Joon’s mouth. It was unusual for Ki Joon, who rarely spoke about himself.

“And besides, I don’t train to beat anyone up.”

“Then why do you do it?”

A straightforward question reached Ki Joon.

At that moment, the downpour pouring through the murky air engulfed Ki Joon. The smell of blood mixed with suffocatingly humid air, bloody water flowing and pooling among muddy puddles, his vision going white and sharp tinnitus tearing at his ears.

In an instant, cold sweat gathered in his palms. His sharply exhaled breath wavered precariously. The afterimages of the past were still so powerful. But soon, Ki Joon skillfully composed himself.

“…It’s the opposite, actually.”

Conveying his meaning vaguely, Ki Joon gave an ambiguous smile. Gawon quietly looked at Ki Joon for a while, but didn’t ask any further.

Whenever the afterimages of the past surfaced and panic seized his chest, Ki Joon was always at a loss. On such days, he wouldn’t even spar, afraid he might hurt someone. He’d run until the sky looked yellow and he wanted to vomit, pounding the sandbag, struggling desperately. Wanting to run away, wanting to escape those afterimages.

But now, however.

“I see. …Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what I said earlier—about it being nice to be able to beat anyone up.”

It was a small voice, but Gawon clearly said that. Then he slowly resumed eating with his spoon.

Ki Joon liked Gawon’s apology—delivered simply, without any added commentary—so much that the afterimages of the past quickly faded.

After watching Gawon for a moment, Ki Joon picked up his utensils as well. Matching his pace to the kid who ate slowly but finished his tray completely, he took a long, leisurely meal.