A Scorching Day Chapter 3

“…What?”

Heo Yeonggyu let out a dazed voice. He still had one hand gripping Gawon’s collar, while his other hand remained stupidly raised in the air.

“What bastard is that, fuck?”

“…”

“What bastard, I said!”

A beat late, coming to his senses, Heo Yeonggyu shouted with a face flushed red and purple. With the new school year just beginning, he was more on edge than ever, his shoulders and neck stiff with tension. For him, who staked his life on the childish power struggles to claim a top spot in a classroom full of nothing but males, it was only natural.

“Me.”

At the simple answer, all eyes gathered in one direction.

It was the transfer student sitting in the very front. With a languid face, he grinned and slightly raised one hand that had been tucked into his hoodie zip-up.

His voice was low and husky, as if he’d been sleeping face-down until just before, and there were deep pressure marks on his face. His relaxed demeanor stood in stark contrast to Heo Yeonggyu, who was fuming and trembling with rage.

“You wanna die? This transfer student bastard is out of his mind, acting crazy.”

If it had been anyone else, Heo Yeonggyu would have already rushed over and grabbed them by the collar. But he too had eyes—he couldn’t immediately lunge at a transfer student who was a whole head taller than him. All he could do was pant and spew curses.

“You’re the only one acting crazy here right now.”

But Ki Joon smiled playfully, as if Heo Yeonggyu’s display was beneath him. He remained lounging lazily against the backrest, both hands tucked into his zip-up pockets.

Ppuk. Someone let out a snort of laughter. That set off a wave of stifled chuckles from all around.

There had already been a certain undercurrent of disapproval toward Heo Yeonggyu, who had been strutting around noisily since first year, but no one had stepped up to stop him. Now that a transfer student had rolled in and taken on that role, it was quite an intriguing spectacle for the rest of the class.

Sensitively picking up on that atmosphere, Heo Yeonggyu scowled fiercely. Just as he gritted his teeth and started stalking toward the front of the classroom—

“This fucking bastard…!”

“Hey hey hey. Hold on, hold on, Heo Yeonggyu.”

One of the guys beside him hastily grabbed his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. In that moment, Gawon didn’t miss the twitch at the corner of Heo Yeonggyu’s eye. But Heo Yeonggyu soon glared with a look of indifference.

“Ah fuck, so what. Telling me not to bullshit? What is this, a movie? What era are we living in, with some gangster bullshit…”

“Hey.”

Just then, a low voice leaked from the front seat.

“If you don’t want to die, shut your mouth.”

A straight, cold gaze fixed on Heo Yeonggyu.

It was the complete opposite of the sly, grinning look from before. His eyes, carrying a clear warning, were honed to a dangerous edge—too sharp to be merely the gaze of an eighteen-year-old boy.

The atmosphere froze in an instant. Even Heo Yeonggyu, who had been puffing himself up with all kinds of bluster, stood frozen in place for a moment, unable to continue.

At that moment, the bell rang, and the homeroom teacher walked in through the front door with heavy steps.

“What’s this? Why’s the atmosphere like this? Hey, open a window over there.”

The teacher banged the pointer on the lectern with a tang tang. Gawon, who had been standing blankly at the back, quickly closed his locker door. Looking at the milk-soaked textbooks, a sigh escaped him involuntarily, but he forced it down and sat in his seat.

The teacher’s gaze briefly flicked to Gawon’s face, which was beginning to swell, then dropped to the ruined textbooks. But only for a moment—the gaze was quickly withdrawn. As if he’d seen nothing.

Feeling that gaze, Gawon bit his lip. After a year of blackened, festering rot inside, he no longer felt wounded by such desperate averted eyes.

Especially after hearing the rumors going around—that someone had seen Heo Yeonggyu’s father, the district councilman, and the homeroom teacher coming out of an upscale Korean restaurant together. Gawon was far too deep in the shadows to expect help or protection from a normal adult.

“Hey, transfer student. Why’s the atmosphere like this? They’re not, like, picking a fight and telling you to follow them to the roof, are they?”

To lighten the mood, the teacher teased Ki Joon, who was sitting in the front. The kid, who had been slouching, straightened his back and replied.

“Ah… Teacher, I think I might be too scared to come to school.”

There was no trace of the attitude that had frozen the classroom atmosphere moments before. He had already returned to his usual sly, affable demeanor. Even the teacher let out a chuckle at the playful tone in his voice.

“You piece of work—big as a mountain, and such a crybaby. Alright, open your books.”

“Yeees—.”

Hearing the drawn-out replies of a few students, the teacher turned his back toward the chalkboard. The excited tension gradually subsided, but Heo Yeonggyu alone couldn’t calm down easily, huffing and puffing.

Of course, getting hit by Gawon while off guard had pissed him off, but more than anything, being publicly humiliated by Ki Joon in front of the other kids must have been a fatal blow to Heo Yeonggyu. Seeing through his all-too-transparent, childish, and pathetic inner workings, Gawon snorted inwardly.

Gawon’s gaze lingered quietly on the transfer student’s back in the front row. Looking at that huge, broad back and those powerfully built shoulders, he realized once again why Heo Yeonggyu hadn’t dared to recklessly pick a fight.

But that was all. He felt no gratitude for being helped. No—he couldn’t afford to think that way.

Subduing a bully who preys on the weak is merely another display of violence. At least, that’s how the fights Gawon had witnessed in classrooms worked. The bullies cruelly tormented Gawon, who was at the very bottom, as if it were a sport, and they had no intention of sharing their favorite prey with others.

That transfer student was probably the same. The reason he’d helped earlier wasn’t out of sympathy for Gawon, but to make Heo Yeonggyu look ridiculous.

Soon, in this cramped classroom, there would be a pathetic power struggle—either Heo Yeonggyu would be crushed, or he’d do the crushing. And regardless of the outcome, the next target would be… himself.

Whether that kid bullied him or Heo Yeonggyu did, it made no difference to Gawon. Only that if the transfer student hit him, it would probably hurt more than when Heo Yeonggyu did. Gawon looked with trembling eyes at Ki Joon’s large hand holding a pen. It was so big that even though it was the same pen as his own, it looked much smaller in comparison.

Just as he was about to swallow a sigh and drop his gaze from him, Ki Joon slowly turned his head around.

“…”

The moment their eyes met, Gawon froze for no reason he could name.

The kid’s expression was as usual. It seemed like his face always looked the same—a faint smile barely visible at the corners of his lips, always giving him an air of composure.

But his eyes were entirely different. The playfulness that had swarmed when he was teasing Heo Yeonggyu or answering the teacher was gone. He wasn’t angry. It was a quiet gaze, unfathomably deep.

Gawon sensed it instinctively. Though always masked by an overflowing playfulness, in reality, those eyes were thoroughly skilled at hiding something seething beneath. Something that could only be described as loneliness—the product of repeating that process countless times—resided in that kid’s eyes.

That unadorned gaze caught hold of Gawon as if confirming something, and wouldn’t let go. Like a fish pierced by a sharp hook, his gaze couldn’t move. That was why it took so long for Gawon’s eyes to finally break away from his.

…What was that. Why did he look at me with eyes like that.

Gawon deliberately dropped his gaze to his textbook. Why had that kid suddenly turned around and looked at him? It was an indecipherable gaze.

Though brief, the intense impression wouldn’t leave his mind. Even as he quietly took out tissues and pressed them onto the milk-sodden textbook to absorb the moisture, Gawon couldn’t shake the transfer student’s gaze that clung stubbornly to his mind.

“Fuck, it stinks. Hey, get that textbook away.”

The kid sitting next to him grimaced and grumbled quietly. One of Heo Yeonggyu’s crew. As if they hadn’t made it this way themselves.

Without a reply, Gawon silently wiped the textbook with tissues. A fresh wave of emptiness washed over him, and he closed his eyes tightly. He felt stupid for having indulged in such useless thoughts, even for a moment.

Eye contact? So what.

That bastard is nothing special either. Mark my words, he’ll come over during break and pick a fight about how I stared at him.

It all felt so tiresome again. The daily life he had to struggle through. The remaining school years that stretched out like eons, even though it had only just begun. This prison-like classroom, where everyone was always watching for a chance to trample him and squeeze out some cheap amusement.